


Affirmative Action

by HistoricallyDragon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AU's never explained, AU's present, Attempted Murder, Excessive Damsel in Distress, Flowers, Gen, Injury, Kidnapping, Legal drug use, Murder, No Smut, Non-sexual suffocation, Not Romance, Office, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Terrorism, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2020-05-12 18:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19234564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HistoricallyDragon/pseuds/HistoricallyDragon
Summary: The barrier has been broken for over four years.But humans don’t change much.The newly freed monsters were forced to leave Ebott Province, dispersing and wandering until Calloway City takes steps to help. Now monsters have a place where they can find jobs, try to make a living and really enjoy their freedom.But humans don’t change much.Brenda is a typical office worker who enjoys genuinely good coffee. She's not the sort to take sides, advocate, politic, or take risks; but being average won't protect her.





	1. First Impressions

Brenda trudged toward her cubicle, dripping wet and filthy with street muck. Her cubicle neighbor, Abby, made a squeak of distress and delicately took Brenda’s purse and coat, hanging them in their proper place. “What happened?”

  
“Bus, puddle, all the rotten luck.” Brenda explained, shivering. The muddy, polluted water had soaked her through top to bottom and to top things off; ruined her coffee.

  
Abby made sympathetic noises, her hands hovering as she wanted to help but didn't want to get dirtier. Then, her eyes lit up. “Oh! I have an idea!” Abby grabbed her cell and dialed. “Susan, you told me about that new janitor? Can you send him over, please? Thank you.” She hung up and grinned. Brenda just looked down. She’d left a trail of wet footprints from the elevator to her cubicle and was now creating a puddle on the industrial carpeting. The janitor wasn’t going to be happy. Janitors were never happy about wet carpets.

  
Brenda had nothing to clean up with. Without a towel, she didn’t dare sit at her desk or touch her computer. “Donna’s not going to be happy.”

  
“Forget her. Here comes the janitor.” Abby said, dancing a little with excitement. Brenda initially wondered if the janitor was attractive enough to have Abby so enthused, but that wasn’t the cause. She looked up and stared, mouth gone slack. It looked like they were being approached by an overlarge mop bucket being carried by a turtle… except not.

  
“What…?”

  
“Woshua! Hi! Can you help Brenda out here?” Abby called the bucket turtle over. It walked toward them. The bucket was filled to the brim with sloshing water -and rubber ducky- but none of it spilled despite the four-legged gait.

Woshua burbled, his little not-turtle head looking from the muddy puddle on the floor to the even muddier Brenda. Brenda was ashamed at her ignorance when she finally figured it out. “Oh!” It -he?- was a monster! This was the first she’d met. People were scared of these guys? Woshua barely came up to her waist. He was cute. Brenda felt even worse for leaving a mess he’d have to clean up.

And then Brenda was blasted a second time that morning with a jet of water. Thankfully it was warm, like she’d been shoved beneath a hot waterfall. It startled her into closing her eyes and holding her breath as water crashed over her face and ears, rushing through her clothes. Before panic had time to grow, the water was gone and something was brushing past Brenda’s face. She flinched and stepped back, peeking an eye open to see bubbles rising all around her, floating toward the ceiling and vanishing into tiny, splash-less pops that pinged musically. Brenda was fully clean, dry, and lightly scented with something new and sweet.

Brenda looked down at Woshua. He smiled a tiny turtle smile and burbled happily, then politely inclined his head toward Brenda’s cubicle. She stepped back, closer to Abby who was uncharacteristically silent. The Woshua went into Brenda’s workspace and glared at her coat, burbled, and spat a jet of water at it. The water hung over the jacket rather than pouring off, then dissolved into those musical bubbles, taking the street muck and leaving the coat looking and smelling better than the dry-cleaners ever had.

Brenda looked from her coat, to the Woshua. She’d gone from cold and miserable to warm and enchanted in less than a minute. She couldn't stop smiling. “That was wonderful, Woshua! You’re my hero! Thank you!”

Woshua beamed under her praise, the little eyes on his head -and the rubber ducky’s head- squinted with pleasure. The monster burbled again, then waddled away leaving employees, clothing, carpeting, even the cubicle dividers clean in his wake.

“That was so cool!” Abby gushed.

“I know!” Brenda checked her purse and was delighted to find the contents all perfectly clean and dry -her phone was even still working! “This is amazing! Thank you, that was a brilliant idea…” Brenda trailed off when she turned to thank Abby. Her friend was full of excited wonder. Her face… her face. Once Brenda realized what was different she snorted softly and failed to smother a giggle.

Abby frowned, her hands reaching to check her precious -and still perfect- curls. “What is it?”

“He got you too? I’ve never seen you without makeup before.”

“What?” Abby put one hand to her face and pulled a compact out of her pocket with the other, flipping it open and examining herself in the mirror. Not only was her face free of artificial color, the foundation in the compact was gone too. “OH!” Abby dove for her own cubicle, digging for makeup.

Brenda chased after her. “No! Abby, no! You look great! I promise! Please, don’t.”

“IT IS FIFTEEN PAST NINE. That should be more than enough time to settle down and get to work.” Both women cringed. Abby abandoned her search for makeup and Brenda dashed back to her cubicle just before Donna strode around the corner. Well over six feet tall in sensible flats, their section manager towered over the cubicle walls with an eagle eye for misconduct on company time. Donna was the driving force behind their section’s efficiency, and a little scary.

The section fell silent save for the familiar clicking of keys, shuffling of paper, and the frequent hum and whir of the Xerox machine. Brenda opened her daily agenda and listened as Donna settled into her desk. Section supervisors had large, open desks beside their appointed cubicle sections. By luck, Brenda’s desk was right next to Donna’s cubicle with only a single cloth and foam partition between them. Proximity to her supervisor certainly intimidated Brenda into efficiency.

They’d hardly been working for an hour before Donna broke the silence, her stern voice easily carrying in the focused quiet of the office. “Mandatory meeting in the conference room, fifteen minutes. Everyone in the section must attend.” Donna immediately began cleaning her space, then left to be first to the meeting.

Brenda wheeled her chair over and stuck her head out of the cubicle, coast was clear. Abby’s head appeared from her cubicle, face still clean. “Any idea what this is about?” Brenda asked. Abby, despite her raw talent gathering office gossip, shrugged. They ducked back into their cubicles to log off and clean their space -Donna insisted work areas be tidy when left for any length of time.

The section workers trickled into conference room four, snagging seats or choice spaces along the back wall. They remained silent: Donna standing near the ‘front’ of the conference room reminded everyone of elementary school assemblies with the principal watching. The entire section was present by the designated time, but they had to wait nearly ten minutes before the company’s HR executive, Roger, walked in with a big smile.

He began speaking without greeting. “As you all know; your former section executive, Andrew Blackwell, moved to another branch last week and we’re running a little behind on announcing his replacement. I will do so now.” Roger gestured grandly to the door he’d just come through.

A monster took his queue to step in. This monster was… not a cute little Woshua. This was a skeleton monster. His skull angular, sharp toothed with a jagged cracked scar above and through one darkly shadowed eye socket. Within these eye sockets glowed small, fierce red lights that scanned the room of shocked humans. The tailoring of his stark black suit made it clear that there was no musculature beneath the material. The skeleton monster moved with militant confidence as he marched into the room and stood near Roger and Donna -dwarfing Roger and even rising well above Donna. The room was intimidated into silence at his appearance. Those in seats struggled not to sink down and some of the standing workers scooted to subtly hide behind others.

Large and terrifying as Papyrus was, it didn’t stop everyone in the section from also seeing just how horrified Donna was. Her skin had gone sickly pale and there was a tension between her eyes that indicated a barely restrained look of disgust. “This is Papyrus, he will be your Section Executive moving forward.” Roger explained. Donna twitched unpleasantly.

Papyrus stood proud, either ignoring or oblivious to Donna’s reaction. He spoke in a subdued tenor, roughened from either overuse or injury sometime in his past. “Section Four has the highest efficiency rating in Adams Corp.. I expect to maintain that record. In order to do so,” He tilted his skull just a little and most of the workers were sure a crease above one eye socket lifted as human brows would. “We’d better not waste anymore time on this meeting.”

There was a beat of silence, and then some snickers. “Hear, hear!” someone called. The tension broken.

Without further comment, Papyrus left with Roger trailing behind, looking bemused. The meeting hadn't lasted three minutes. That had to be a record by more than ten minutes.

Donna, whose lips had nearly vanished for how tightly she was pursing them, took charge. “Despite the delay I expect everyone to finish their work on time. Get to it.” She barked before sweeping out of the room.

A murmur arose as the workers began filing back out of the room and back to their cubicles. Abby caught Brenda, “Did she seem… you know…?”

“Very uncomfortable?” Brenda asked.

Abby nodded. “Do you think it’s because… well…”

Brenda was about to say ‘the monster’ but corrected herself, “The new hiring policy?”

“I don’t think this is going to end well.” Abby fretted.

Before agreeing, Brenda remembered who she was talking to, “You’ve heard something?”

“Ben Patterson in accounting?” A couple other people heard Abby slipping into gossip mode and slowed down.

“Yeah?” The guy was basically THE last word in number crunching.

“Fired. Complained too loud and too long about the new hiring policy.”

“What? Can they do that? He was getting ready to retire, right?”

“Two and a half years.” Abby confirmed. “Apparently he was too cocky that they wouldn’t fire him that close.” Brenda huffed her shock, somebody nearby whistled in agreement. “There’s a lot of people in other sections -like, more than twenty- who’ve already been told to fix their act or turn in their resignation.”

“They’re really serious about this.” Brenda murmured. “You think this is one of those things…” She started. Abby hummed and waited for Brenda to finish her thought.

“LUNCH IS ELEVEN FORTY-FIVE. CHATTER ON YOUR OWN TIME.” Donna called. The remaining section workers rushed from the conference room.

 

* * *

 

  
“It’s like having two dictators!” Abby hissed a couple weeks after Papyrus took charge, quietly venting in the break room. “I can’t even tell the difference between them sometimes!”

“Easy;” Jason intoned darkly. “One has unnatural, glowing eyes from pent up murderous rage,” He shifted to a cheeky grin. “The other has a crack in his skull.” A few folks acknowledged the humor with tired smiles.

Brenda glanced at the clock on the wall as she dropped her garbage in the bin. “Eat fast, Papyrus makes his lunch-time rounds at twelve forty.” Everyone in the break room groaned as Brenda left.

On the way to her cubicle Brenda passed Donna’s desk. Previously, Donna was in the habit of giving a small nod when she noticed one of the section workers returning from their breaks early or in a timely manner. Now, she just punched at her keyboard with sharp, irritated clacks that signaled she was composing an email for Papyrus. The two of them hardly spoke, if ever. Most communication was digital and when they did interact it was mostly silent and seething with animosity. Brenda still wasn’t sure how the human and the flesh-less skeleton managed to mirror each other’s expression of ‘I’m far too professional to sneer at you’. Further, they seemed to be trying to assert dominance through micromanaging the section into further imagined efficiency and tidiness.

Their section had always been strict, but now it was downright miserable.

Brenda unlocked her computer, briefly prioritized her assigned tasks, then set to work. She focused and in a good working momentum when Donna’s phone rang, shattering her concentration. Disgruntled, Brenda leaned back in her chair and told herself to get back to work, but the irritation at being knocked off her groove made her reluctant. So, when she heard Donna cleaning her work-space Brenda gave into temptation and peeked over the barrier to watch as Donna went into Papyrus’s office where he and Roger were waiting.

“O-o-oh.” Celeste hummed from a couple rows over. A few more heads popped up.

Donna delivered some binders and the three spoke about… well, whatever. Papyrus said something and Donna turned sharply to him. They clearly had some kind of back and forth but it was impossible to read lips on a skull and Donna’s back was to the cubicles. Roger did the tennis match bit, growing more and more displeased as Donna and Papyrus sniped with raised hackles. Finally, Roger barked some kind of a reprimand. Donna and Papyrus flinched and turned to him as if they’d forgotten he was there.

“Snap!” Somebody hissed.

“How is that wall so soundproof?” Someone else demanded, irritated that their nosiness was blocked.

Roger spoke for a little longer, gesturing angrily at the binders before turning to leave. He was slow and gave the cubicle snoops plenty of time to drop before they were seen.

A few minutes later Donna returned to her desk and set back to work, all sounds from her sharp and angry. She continued to work efficiently for the next hour despite exuding thick waves of anger that distracted the entire section.

At five o’ clock, Donna’s movements shifted and she briskly put her work away, locked her computer, and left with her attaché case. She didn’t notice the line of heads popping out behind her and goggling. Donna always worked late. She was always the last to leave no matter how late anyone else stayed to fix mistakes or problems.

The other section employees left at their usual pace. Brenda caught an elevator down, but it was overfull and she stepped out again a few floors down to get some air. It was a lounge floor, technically for all employees of the nearby companies but the cafés and bars were so expensive usually only the executives spent any time here. By nutty coincidence, Donna was sitting at the bar nursing a drink.

Brenda turned to go back to the elevators but hesitated. After a fierce internal debate she walked over and took a seat next to Donna, who sat with her back perfectly straight, clutching a glass with both hands. Still not really sure of her motives for being here, Brenda ordered a drink and waited, hoping Donna might speak first. They sat in silence for several minutes. Brenda sipped her drink. Donna strangled hers. When Brenda emptied her glass she decided to bite the bullet. “So, you’re not happy with Papyrus as your boss?”

Donna flushed, her face twitching towards a snarl. “Of course not!” She snapped, putting her drink down a little too hard and splashing some of the contents over her hand. Brenda braced herself for the vitriol that was sure to come.

“Darn it! I worked overtime for months to get the Amsterdam Project through! Adam said I was the best, the only candidate to replace him but the next thing I know that… that…” Brenda figured she was about to get a crash course in monster slurs. “That!” Three that’s. Donna was all kinds of pent up. “SMUG churl shows up with his, his -I don’t know! He doesn’t even have a nose but it’s still so high in the air he’d drown in the rain even if he was Cerano di Bergiac! Smug, self-satisfied jerk-face!” Literature references, dated metaphors, and schoolyard insults. This wasn’t what Brenda had expected. “And ROGER! He just waltzes right in and -and –‘Hey everyone! Meet the guy taking your job!’ I don’t CARE how qualified he is! That was my job! I’ve been earning it for years! Hiring from within for open executive positions is policy! They said the mayor’s initiative wouldn’t change standing policy but here he is, no prior experience in ANY corporation…”

As Donna ranted, Brenda gave into an impulse. She snaked her arm over and snagged Donna’s drink, then sipped it experimentally. Ginger Ale, maybe with lime.

“No warning! No explanation of his qualifications! Just… AUGH!”

Brenda replaced the drink and tried to wave Donna down. “Okay wait, wait, wait…” She said. “You’re not mad that Roger hired a monster?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe he’s not that bad. Just too full of… him…” She stopped as something started to click into place. “Oh, that kind of monster. No. I mean, that grin looks even more smug on a skeleton but…” She cut herself off again as the rest of the implication settled into place. Her back straightened from the slight curve she’d permitted whilst venting her wrath, then she turned to Brenda in utter mortification. “Oh my gosh.” Gosh? “Have I been acting like that?”

“Uh… a little?” No, that was too nice. Honesty’s usually better. “I mean, now that I know you’re pissed they passed you over it makes sense, but with all the news about monster protests and the company’s hiring policy…people assumed.”

Donna clapped her hands to her mouth, her office-pale skin going still paler. “Oh no. Oh no.” She left the stool, striding forward with purpose. “I have to apolo-” She stopped and returned to the bar. “I have to pay.” She corrected herself, handing the bar tender her debit card. “And then I have to apologize. I -I was so mad at him.” Donna scowled. “Of course, it had to be a him.” Feminism darkened the air for a moment before she returned to her previous panic. “I never really thought how I was acting… Heavens, I’ve been such a -a-”

“Do-onna.” Brenda sing-songed, putting a hand on her supervisor’s shoulder. Donna turned to her, still chagrined. She suddenly looked hardly any older than Brenda. This was the battle ax who ruled their section? “Breath. I’ll go with you. You can apologize to Papyrus knowing there’s somebody on your side.”

Donna slowly relaxed. Finally, she managed a small smile -the first Brenda had ever seen from her. “Thank you, Brenda. I would appreciate that.”

They returned to their floor and section. Most of the section workers had gone home by then, but of course Papyrus was still in his office. He was obviously ready to square off when he saw Donna approaching but he permitted her to enter.

Brenda stood nearby, not bothering to hide as she watched. A couple stragglers poked their heads up out of their cubicles.

As soon as Donna began speaking, Papyrus’s eye lights flared, giving the impression of his eye sockets widening. Donna maintained her dignity, but did duck her head at the point Brenda assumed was the apology. The two spoke for a few minutes, peaceably and without obvious hostility though Papyrus’s eye lights darkened a time or two.

Finally, Donna left the office and returned to her desk. She offered Brenda another smile before shooing her off home.

Brenda pulled out her phone as she waited for an elevator and texted Abby. _Details later: There will be peace in our times!_

She sent it with the same naïve optimism Neville Chamberlain might have felt.


	2. Crank it to Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brenda gets hit with the second major plot device, we meet more monsters under less than ideal circumstances, and I have the worst possible timing for a meet-cute.

“Brenda?”

Brenda wheeled out of her cubicle. “Donna?”

“I need some hard documents delivered to Westerson. Are you caught up on your work?” Brenda held up an iced coffee from her favorite coffee shop. Donna knew she only indulged in the good stuff during lulls. “Good, take this file and one of the company cars. The address and person to deliver to are on the note card.”

“Yes ma’am.” Brenda replied easily. She gathered the file and her things, then headed for the elevator, smiling and waving to Abby as she passed.

Donna took a moment to note the gesture and feel guilty. Her anger at being passed over had really messed things up in their section. Even after she made amends with Papyrus and apologized to the section workers it had taken several days for the tension to clear and the familiar friendly (yet efficient!) atmosphere to return. Thankfully, traits like Brenda’s impishness and Abby’s cheerful gossip were reasserting themselves as everyone relaxed again. Donna wondered if there was something else she should or could do to further correct the damage she’d caused.

A notification popped up on Donna’s monitor. She promptly opened it.

The Westerson Company’s managing director had a sudden change of plans and would be in a different building than previously anticipated. Would it be possible to deliver those items to the second location?

Easily done. Donna replied in the affirmative and dialed Brenda’s cell.

Dolly Parton began belting out commiserations on the workday from Brenda’s cubicle. Snickers hissed throughout the section. Brenda had forgotten her cell phone. Donna checked the clock. Papyrus didn’t leave for his meeting until two. There was just enough time for Donna to leave and return so the section wouldn’t go unsupervised. Further, Brenda would have to fill out paperwork to borrow one of the company cars, giving Donna plenty of time to catch her. Good. A mild inconvenience, but Donna needed to stretch her legs anyway. She wrote the pertinent information on a fresh note card, locked her computer, and retrieved Brenda’s phone -silencing Dolly’s chipper complaints about her boss. The snickers eased off, not needing Donna to remind them of their work this time.

Donna stopped by Papyrus’s office, tapping on the door and waiting for him to look up from his computer and acknowledge her before pushing the door open. “I have to run out for just a minute.” Donna told him. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Papyrus curtly. “Very well. Inform me upon your return.” Donna agreed and left. Now that they weren’t at each other’s throats -metaphorically, obviously- she found herself contented with him as a boss. He hadn’t needed details, nor reassurance that she knew his schedule. She couldn’t deny there was still some deep-seated bitterness about the situation, but now that she was no longer misdirecting this negativity towards Papyrus she found he was a great boss.

It was a low traffic time of day for the elevators. The car arrived quickly and was near empty. When the doors began to close Donna saw one of the security guards hurrying toward the elevators and held the door. A tough looking yet tidy skeleton like Papyrus -minus a foot and a half- Black was also a recent but competent hire under the company’s new policy. He now headed security for the tower section which included Adams corps’ three floors.

Black slid through the doors, nodding to Donna in recognition of her effort before pressing his destination's floor button and taking a militant position near the wall; they were both in for a long ride to the sub basements.

 

* * *

  

Brenda walked through the parking garage, spinning a key ring around one finger and humming a few disconnected notes. Concrete and steel echoed her clacking work heels with satisfying clarity that seriously tempted Brenda to consider the merits of a good whistle. Some cheerful tune she could belt out and blend with.

A red Corvette drove up the ramp and Brenda pressed into the parked cars to give them plenty of room, smiling pleasantly even through the shaded windows and dim garage lighting kept the driver out of sight. Naturally the sports car pulled into one of the open slots next to the elevators, the ones reserved for executives.

Brenda walked a few more yards, not bothering to glance back as the fancy sports car’s door opened and shut. Such luxuries were beyond peasants like herself. She decided to forgo the whistling and held up the key fob for maximum range, clicking the button. A short horn and a flash of lights told her she was in the wrong aisle. Car found, Brenda circled one of the parking garage’s large concrete support pillars. She smirked ruefully at the line of identical silver compact cars for company use. Simple, generic, much more her speed than the Corvette. Brenda hit the button again and took a step toward the little car whose tail lights flashed.

That was when the bomb detonated.

The force of the explosion lifted Brenda off her feet and cracked her head against the pillar before she was released to fall and strike her head again on the concrete floor. Brenda’s vision flared white and high-pitched whining drilled through her ears.

Her  _head hurt_!

Pain like Brenda had never experienced before. Pain was so overwhelming Brenda forgot to breath until her chest throbbed for the lack. Breathing felt delicate. It made her want to cough, and yet to be afraid of coughing.

Her  _head hurt_!

She whimpered but couldn’t hear it over the whining in her ears. The pain was sharp, heavy, scalding hot, and  _terrifying_. There was something hiding in the pain, something lurking in the agony. Brenda tried to curl up, to hide from either the pain or the unknown terror but she didn’t know, couldn’t tell, didn’t care if her body did as she asked it to.

Her  _head hurt_!

Someone knelt next to her. Brenda could see; her eyes were open, but something didn’t seem to be working right. Was something wrong with her eyes? Somehow, that didn’t matter to her.

Her  _head hurt_!

Hands on her shoulder. Brenda managed to look up. Papyrus? No, this skeleton was different, his teeth weren’t sharp and no crack. He was saying something and somewhere behind the whine Brenda thought she heard a voice, but it was far away and blurry.

Her  _head hurt_!

The skeleton held up his hands. Brenda didn’t know why he was showing her his driving gloves. All she knew was somewhere in her mind she found a place where it didn’t hurt and she was going there.

 

* * *

 

Black strode from the elevator and turned toward the sub-basement security office. The elevator car pinged behind him, doors closing slowly, and then the floor bucked and shook beneath his boots, sending Black to a crouch to maintain his footing and bringing his magic near the surface for rapid summoning of weapons. A distant rumble accompanied the shake and a metallic creaking echoed down the elevator shaft as the lights cut out and an alarm started buzzing. When the movement settled, the emergency lights clicked on, shining red.

Cautiously, Black stood upright. Whatever that was felt like it had come below, from one of the few remaining sub-basement levels. Black reached for his shoulder mic to demand his own section’s status and give the basement security team time to regroup before demanding a report from them, but the human woman on the elevator whimpered. Black turned to her and was alarmed to see her on the edge of panic. He would be expected to … comfort her… or … something?

The human woman pushed through the partially closed elevator doors, then sprinted toward the emergency stairwell. Black called out to her, “Ma’am! Stop! You should wait for-“

“ _I sent her down there_!” The human woman snapped, interrupting Black as she yanked the door to the fire stairs open.

Black grimaced and chased after the human to ensure her safety. Of course Black was following the only human woman in the tower who was nearly as tall as a Papyrus  _and_  who wore sensible shoes. He hurried down the darkened stairwell, listening to her footsteps until she left the stairs and struck the crash bar exiting the stairwell. Black continued his pursuit, barely close enough to see the appropriate door closing so he was sure which floor she was on. It probably wouldn’t have been a difficult guess, the heavy metal security door was visibly damage, warped in its frame.

Small fortunes, the door still swung open with little effort, allowing Black to dash into the red-washed parking garage. Glass was sprayed across the concrete floor, blasted out from every car in sight and a thin haze of dust increased the twinkling effect of the red emergency lights off the debris. Various car alarms wailed and honked. “BRENDA!” the human woman called. Black ran, following her voice. When he caught sight of her, the woman had slowed and was cautiously approaching a concrete pillar lit up with green and orange flares of monster magic. Black’s boots slid through the glass as he came to a stop next to another scattering of glass he assumed was from the woman doing the same. He pushed off the company car he’d braced himself upon when stopping -the maleficent Black certainly hadn’t required it to stop with all the glass, he was merely noting the extent of the damage!- and again followed the human woman across the aisle and around the pillar,

The source of the orange monster magic and flaring green healing magic was, obviously, a Papyrus. He knelt over the crumpled, bloodied form of another human woman, his gloved hands gently resting on the human’s blood caked face, directing the healing magic that flickered and swirled before sinking into the human. More light, the warm orange glowed from his eye sockets, flaring around his skull as he focused on his task.

The uninjured human kept her hand over her mouth and didn’t interrupt the magic working, smart.

Seeing the other skeleton had that issue in hand, Black grabbed his shoulder mic and tried to report what he was seeing. The alarms of the various cars around him proved too loud. Even after cranking the volume on the radio at his hip Black was unable to make anything out. Frustrated and aware that he’d wasted too much time chasing the human, Black summoned his magic and with a wave of his hand several bones manifested, then slammed through the appropriate parts of the nearest vehicles to silence their abyss-damned racket. The sound of metal crunching was audible both when the alarms were destroyed and when Black dismissed the constructs, but neither the human nor the Papyrus reacted.

In the comparable silence, Black again tried his radio.

“ _Black? Get off the radio! We’re trying to get through to the sub-basements.”_

“I am on sub-basement C.” Black snarled. “Where are the other basement guards?”

_“… You’re there? Get to the main entrance! We need to know what the hell is happening! Nobody’s reporting in and the cameras are dead! Tell us what you’re seeing!”_

“I am on my way.” Black frowned at the Papyrus. Without looking up, the other nodded. Black didn’t bother to return the gesture before turning and running toward the main entrance to gather a more solid idea of the situation. “Inform emergency services immediately, there is an injured human on level C.” He said. “There has been some kind of pressure wave, all vehicle windows have been…” He reported everything he saw as he saw it, sporadically using his magic to silence more of the blasted car alarms so he could still use his radio effectively.

 

* * *

 

 

 Donna pressed her hands to her mouth to prevent herself from crying out or panicking as she watched the skeleton monster work. She hoped, desperately, that whatever he was doing was helping Brenda. The warmth of the colors of light dancing around him seemed to suggest that, but she didn’t know anything about magic and could only give in to the wishful thinking.

Gradually the lights eased, the green disappearing as the orange settled into the skeleton’s eye sockets. He sighed as he relaxed his hold on the magic and straightened. “There. A job well done.” The tall skeleton turned his attention to Donna. “It she a friend of yours?”

“Yes!” Donna said, immediately. “Is she… is she okay?”

His whole skull seemed to brighten with cheerful assurance. “Worry not! She will be perfectly fine!” He looked at the human on the ground and mused. “Though, perhaps she would be more comfortable if we moved her.” Before Donna could warn about spine injuries or anything like that, the skeleton scooped Brenda up and shifted her so she was lying more comfortably on the floor. He shucked his sport jacket, folded, and gently tucked it under Brenda’s head. For a moment he considered his hands, then removed the offensively stained driving gloves. “There, now she will be perfectly fine  _and_  more comfortable. Just you wait, she’ll wake up soon.” Donna nodded. She didn’t take her eyes off Brenda’s bloodied face but removed her own blazer and draped it over Brenda’s torso.

Hardly had Donna settled down to wait than Brenda began to stir. She grimaced and slowly opened one eye before blinking them both. A look of wonder lit her face as she realized the pain was gone.

“Human! You are awake!” The skeleton noted joyfully.

“Brenda!” The skeleton shifted back so Donna could easily look Brenda over and speak to her. “Brenda, I need you to talk to me. What day is it?”

Brenda blinked in confusion, “What? We… you mean Tuesday? Or the seventh?”

Donna let loose a breath. “Good. Both. Yes.” Donna finally relaxed, sitting back on her heels.

Brenda followed the movement partway, but something caught her eye and she blanched, her exposed skin going pale and almost green. “What…?” She choked and tried to sit up even as she recoiled from what she saw.

“Oh?” Donna and skeleton followed her gaze. The concrete pillar was garishly sprayed with blood in a way no horror house could replicate. “OH!” They moved together, blocking Brenda’s view of the blood splatter -her blood splatter. The skeleton spoke rapidly. “Now that you are awake it is safe for you to move a little. The paramedics are on their way and they will take you to a human hospital! You are perfectly safe now!” He chattered distractingly. Between the skeleton and Donna, they lifted and turned Brenda so she was sitting up, facing away from the pillar. In the process, the skeleton casually kicked his bloodied gloves out of Brenda’s line of sight. He also shook out his jacket, then draped it around Brenda’s shoulders when she no longer needed a pillow. Donna kept a hand on Brenda’s arm, both grounding and supporting Brenda while quietly reassuring herself.

Brenda looked around, eyeing the broken glass, flat tires, and the way everything was washed out by the emergency lights and fuzzy with dust. A few distant car alarms still echoed around the area. “What happened?”

Hesitantly, Donna ventured, “I think there was a bomb.” She watched as skeleton brushed dust from her blazer and folded it. “We’re lucky that… um…?”

The skeleton draped Donna’s blazer over his arm and knelt beside the women again, extending his free hand to shake, which Donna accepted. “Papyrus Skeleton! Always pleased to help!”

Brenda was still disoriented. She narrowed her eyes in thought and puffed “Pah…”

“We were lucky Mr. Skeleton was here. He saved you.” Donna finished.

“Papyrus?” Brenda parroted belatedly.

“Is that a common name for skeletons?” Donna said, voicing Brenda’s confusion more diplomatically.

“Certainly, yes! Perhaps you know my friend who is also named Papyrus, though he did not choose a second name. He works for Adams Corp, I believe?”

“He’s my boss.” Donna said, then introduced herself, “My name is Donna Ricci, and for saving Brenda I insist you call me Donna.”

“And you simply must call me Papyrus.” Papyrus assured her, then gleefully cackled, “Nyeh-heh!”

Donna turned pink.

Papyrus cackled again.

They were still holding hands.

Brenda hoped the paramedics would arrive soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big nod to Darkina's story Between Flesh & Bone. I read her story early on in the planning of this one and can't deny there was some influence, especially on the first chapter and in hiring Sans Black as a security guard.
> 
> Is it still nepotism if you got the job because your alternate self from another dimension already works in security?
> 
> Brenda's Work Group ringtone is Dolly Parton's 9-5.


	3. Tulips and a Lawyer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of monsters, but the plot must go on!

The doctor stood back, allowing the nurse to speak on a matter he apparently knew little about. Which was understandable. The doctor might be an older gentleman who obviously had years of experience in his field, but the nurse was a monster and only monsters had years of experience with magic.

The harpy held a thick magi-digital tablet with one wing and brushed the pinions of her other wing over the screen. “Everything appears to be tip-top. Your HP is a little below your max but that’s to be expected; hospitals aren’t the nicest place to sleep. A night in your own bed should fix that right up.” Her eyes crinkled above her beak and -somehow- the beak smiled with her eyes. “You’re very lucky Mr. Skeleton found you when he did! After Queen - _ahem_ \- After lady Toriel, he has the strongest known healing magics. Most of us can’t perform a complete healing, much less on a stranger.”

“That makes a difference?” Abby asked. She’d brought some necessities from Brenda’s apartment and now sat at the foot of her hospital bed.

“Yes!” The harpy chirped. “Healing magics are a combination of natural aptitude, personal affection, and training. Without these, most monsters can summon less healing magic than humans.”

“Oh.” Brenda said. She’d been mostly quiet since… well, since the blast. Her head had been fuzzy while the medics, ER nurses and doctors, and various technicians and radiologists had searched for injuries to explain the blood. It had been after midnight before they accepted she’d been healed by magic. The harpy was right, sleeping in the hospital wasn’t nice.

Dr. Washington stepped forward. “Are there any more questions?”

“What about the bruises? If she’s healed, why are there still bruises?” Abby asked. There were dark circles around Brenda’s eyes that could be explained by lack of sleep and stress, but they matched similar discoloration behind her ears. Abby’d briefly freaked upon noticing these.

The nurse looked carefully at Brenda, as if trying to pick out what was wrong.

“That’s nothing to worry about.” Dr. Washington explained. “Because of our makeup, humans are more prone to scarring and such after a magical healing.” Brenda nodded absently. She’d seen the evidence of that in her skull x-ray. It was one of the images that burned through her disorientation and would probably give her nightmares for a while. “The bruises will clear up in a few days, faster than the usual method.” He compulsively straightened his jacket and stethoscope, clearly ready to continue with his rounds. “Anything else I can ‘clear up’ for you?”

Abby and the nurse tittered.

“I think we’re good. Thank you.” Brenda filled in.

“Then you should be able to head home as soon as the discharge paperwork is managed.” Dr. Washington said, extending a hand. Formalities and thanks were exchanged before Dr. Washington and the nurse left.

Once they were gone, Brenda kicked off the hospital blankets. She grabbed the bag Abby had packed for her and disappeared into the bathroom for another shower -one with real shampoo.

While steam built up and started leaking from the bathroom, Abby fought with the remote control until the news came on. On every local and national news channel was the same image, angled slightly different from each other as cameramen no doubt shuffled for the best view available from behind police tape. The view wasn’t great, a few police officers and other official looking types walking in and out of the Lee Tower’s parking garage. Every channel showed something like that as ‘experts’ were interviewed over and over again about the fact that nobody knew anything. A bomb. Six people dead. A dozen or so people injured -mostly while evacuating. Nothing else was confirmed, but news reporters had been stirring the rumor mill and conjectures for over twenty straight hours and weren’t about to quit while the ratings persisted.

Abby had to jab the power button several times before the television turned off. She tossed the remote, then settled in the visitor’s chair with her phone and a puzzle game.

The shower did a lot to helping Brenda revive and Abby insisted on helping Brenda with her hair. Abby was nagging Brenda about still using rubber hair ties when a knock on the door announced a guest.

“Hello?”

“Donna!” Abby abandoned her lecture and hurried out to the hospital room to seize Donna by her arms. “You’re okay! You are okay, aren’t you?” Her initial concern curbed as she stepped back and looked the taller woman over. Donna was in fresh work clothes and her typical warfighter bun with the strap of her attaché case and a gift bag dislodged from her shoulder by Abby’s greeting. “You’re okay! Thank goodness! Josh wanted to go after you but Papyrus threatened to knock him out if he left the group… I think he could, too.”

“I’ve no doubt.” Donna mused. “Thank you for your concern. I’m fine.” She looked up. “Brenda…?”

“In here.” Brenda called, stepping out of the bathroom when her hair was finished and clothes neat. “The doctors said I can go home.”

Donna’s relief was visible. “Good.”

“Mostly I just needed a shower… two showers, actually.” She smiled. “I’m feeling human again now that I’m clean.”

Donna grimaced, remembering. “Yes, that make sense.” She cleared her throat. “I’m glad you’re okay and while I had intended to visit you anyway this morning…”

“Uh-oh.” Brenda and Abby intoned.

“… I’m obligated to do a little work. One of the company lawyers is on his way.”

“Oh.” Brenda said, groaning.

“He should be here in just a minute.” Donna ignored the whining.

Abby clapped her hands together, feigning cheer. “You know what? We need coffee! I’ll get some for everybody!”

“Abby…” Brenda growled.

“Don’t worry! I’ll find something you like! But there’s no good coffee in this hospital,” There was a café with coffee Brenda rather liked, Abby knew that. “So, I’ll be a while! See ya!” She circled Brenda and dashed from the room.

“Coward!” Brenda called after her.

Donna quirked an amused eyebrow. “Are we done?” she asked.

Brenda smirked. “Are we on company time?” She teased.

Her boss blinked at Brenda, then blushed and covered her face with her hands. “Oh gosh, I just did that, didn’t I?” She said, finally breaking from her Principal Donna mask.

Brenda giggled and put a hand on Donna’s shoulder, guiding her into the visitor’s chair. “Don’t worry about it. I understand habit.”

Donna settled into the chair, setting her bags on the floor beside her. “I’m sorry. I’m becoming increasingly aware that I might spend a little too much of my time with work.”

Brenda sat on the hospital bed. “Don’t worry about it.” She repeated.

Her boss hummed thoughtfully, then gave herself a small hum before picking the gift bag back up. “Actually, when I informed Papyrus that I’d be visiting you today, he wanted me to give you these.” She reached into the bag and withdrew a small bouquet of flowers.

Brenda was instantly charmed. She gave a little gasp and accepted the tulips and fronds. “Oh! They’re beautiful!” When Donna handed them to her, Brenda buried her nose in the white petals and inhaled. The scent was light and clean in a manner entirely different than the sterile chemical clean of the hospital. A card gently poked her face, so Brenda withdrew from her hand-held garden and inspected the paper.

_YOU ARE AUTHORIZED PAID LEAVE FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE WEEK OR UNTIL COMPANY OPERATIONS RESUME. INFORM MS. RICCI IF ADDITIONAL CONVALESCENT TIME IS REQUIRED AND YOU WILL BE DULY COMPENSATED._

Brenda snorted. The card was unsigned and she didn’t recognize the handwriting, but the wording made it clear who had written the note. “Boss is such a romantic!” Brenda giggled.

Donna didn’t laugh, but her eyes sparkled and she pressed a loose fist to her mouth to prevent giggles. “All flights of fancy and girlish dreams.” She agreed, sending Brenda into a greater fit of laughter.

The two were still making light comments at the expense of their supervisor when another knock on the door signaled the arrival of the company lawyer.

Donna stood to greet him. “Simon! Brenda, you remember Simon Pacheco?”

“I think so.” She’d seen the youngish lawyer running around the company from time to time. He had to switch his briefcase to his left hand to shake hers. “What can I do you for?” Brenda tried to sound helpful, but dealing with the company lawyers wasn’t exactly a thrilling prospect… Donna was actually edging her way toward the door to abandon Brenda to the lawyer as well, though probably not to go as far as Abby had.

“Well, Ms. Laudstrum-”

“Brenda.”

“Brenda, as you are aware, yesterday’s events put Adam’s corp into a bit of a sticky situation. Just to keep things neat and tidy, would you be willing to sign a waiver?”

Donna hesitated at the door. Brenda sighed. “Sign a waiver clearing the company of any and all responsibility for injuries sustained?” She guessed.

“Yes, I’m glad you understand.” Mr. Pacheco seemed relieved.

“No.”

Mr. Pacheco was no longer relieved. Donna slipped out the door.

When Abby returned with a tray of coffees more than an hour later the nurses had finished Brenda’s discharge paperwork, but Brenda was still arguing with Simon Pacheco. Abby gave Donna her coffee and the two wandered the halls, waiting for the argument to finish.

“Ms. Laudstrum, please! I need you to consider signing a waiver for-“

“Nope.”

“But it would make the company-”

“No. I’m not changing my mind!”

“Ms. Laudstrum, if you would only reconsider it would be for the good of the company!”

“No! The waiver is too generic! It leaves me vulnerable!”

Mr. Pacheco was duly offended. “Adams Corp is a respectable organization with unquestionable integrity!”

“You sound almost archaic. Nobody trusts ‘integrity’ anymore, otherwise you wouldn’t be following me around for a waiver!”

He never had a comeback for that and -as usual- backed up and started again, “Ms. Laudstrum, the company would feel so much better if you were to consider signing this liability waiver! We both know Adams Corp was not directly responsible for the inconvenience and injuries you suffered and-”

“AUGH!” her voice doubtlessly echoed down the hall, but Brenda paid it no mind. “No. I am not signing a waiver! I am going home!” She grabbed her bag and started for the door.

Simon Pacheco was alarmed. He couldn’t force her to stay and could only follow her so far. Brenda would be able to make a run for it. “Then… would you consider a sworn statement?”

His offer caught her off guard. “N- wait, a statement?” This was the first time he’d offered an alternative.

Simon nodded. “Yes. A sworn statement. Just something for the company to gauge how you’re feeling.” And if it was a negative statement, they could take more forceful measures to try and prevent Brenda from filing suit. If it was a positive statement, that could also be used against her if she decided to sue.

Brenda mulled it over. A sworn statement might get the lawyer off her back, and it shouldn’t give the company too much leverage. Simon waited hopefully as she considered what she might or might not put in such a statement and how it would reflect on her. Finally, Brenda nodded. “I could do that.” She agreed.

The man couldn’t help it. He released a breath and grinned in relief. Brenda felt a bit of guilt, the guy looked way too young for the stress of his job. “That’s wonderful!” He dug through his briefcase and soon withdrew the appropriate form. Brenda spread the form on a medicine tray and accepted the pen he offered. She went slowly, writing everything that had happened the previous day as truthfully as she could. It actually helped to straighten some of her thoughts out and sort through some of the disorientation she’d experienced. After several minutes she dated and signed the paper with a flourish. Simon was nervous taking the form, but when he read it his shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “This will do nicely, thank you for your time.” Again, Brenda couldn’t help but think he was too young for the job.

“Next time; offer the statement sooner.” Brenda advised.

Simon had the grace to look sheepish. “Perhaps you’re right. Have a nice day. And, please, feel better.” They shook hands.

Donna and Abby reappeared as the two gathered their things. Abby cheerfully offered Simon a coffee with cream and sugar, which the lawyer accepted as a drowning man accepts a lifeline before waving at the three women and hurrying on to whatever was next for him.

“For a young lawyer, Simon did well.” Donna noted.

Brenda sighed. “I could have done without that.” She started to sling the bag over her shoulder, but Donna took the bag from her. Abby gave Brenda her coffee and shoved her into a wheelchair.

“It’s standard policy, you’d have needed to go through that if you’d slipped on a wet floor in the bathroom.” Donna explained as Abby went to fetch a nurse.

Brenda smirked. “The head janitor would never allow that.” Donna hadn’t the pleasure of meeting Washua yet and gave Brenda a quizzical look. Brenda smiled and drank her coffee. After a minute she cleared her throat. “Thanks… by the way.”

Again, Donna looked confused. “For what?”

“For coming after me. You didn’t have to.”

Donna smiled her little smile. She patted Brenda’s shoulder. “Yes, I did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this overwhelming mental image of boss Papyrus staying up all night searching the far reaches of the internet and not finding what he's looking for.  
> First thing in the morning, his brother shuffles past Boss' office in nothing but edgy boxer shorts and slippers, clutching a mug of coffee for dear life and growling "Just send flowers, dumbass!"
> 
> Aside from "Papyrus" the boss and "Papyrus Skeleton", all our favorite bone friends will go by clearly discernible names familiar to the fandom. I just wanted to have fun with these two. Feel free to yell at me if I fail to make it clear who's who.


	4. Touching Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memorial before getting back to the grindstone.

One of the security guards was smiling. The other two had been militantly serious for their professional photographs. Beside them hung three obviously candid shots cropped down and blown up for the tower memorial service. Brenda couldn’t help looking at the pictures and thinking what good looking people they were. It was irrelevant, really, but some social programming had somehow implanted the feeling that tragedy was somehow more tragic when it struck down the young and attractive.

Brenda swallowed, resisting the heaviness that seemed to weigh on her when she was forced to think of that day. The heaviness would grow cold when she thought of how close it had been. If not for some fluke that was beyond coincidental her picture would be hanging from the wall of the convention room with the rest. By chance, most of the images had been captured when the model was looking at or near the lens, giving the impression that they were staring out at their own memorial, or at Brenda. She couldn’t tell if it was the icy weight or a spike of guilt that made her shiver in her seat.

Beside her, a grey rabbit monster fretted for several minutes before hesitantly placing a warm, furry hand over Brenda’s clammy one and offering a comforting squeeze. Brenda blinked at the hand, the physical contact pulling her suddenly from her thoughts. The rabbit was about to remove her hand in case it had been the wrong thing to do but Brenda hooked a thumb over the monster’s fuzzy fingers and returned the squeeze. She managed a tiny but genuine smile of gratitude before turning her attention back to the service.

The tower’s chief of security was reading a prepared speech. Littered with tired clichés and dry statements of career achievement and dedication. It was the third such speech he’d read, but the paper trembled in his hand. He soon finished, cleared his throat, and stepped down from the podium with dignity. A nondenominational chaplain stepped up and requested attendees to stand and respect the customary moment of silence, broken only by the soft whispers of those who chose to pray. When the minute had passed, the chaplain reminded everyone there were refreshments available, as well as a full team of chaplains and councilors and a cultural ambassador for monsters available -even after the memorial. He thanked everyone who came and stepped down, ending the service.

The room filled with a subdued shuffling and murmur. A news crew in the back of the room began shutting down and packing up their equipment as everyone else gathered their things and looked around to determine the best exit route or detour to the refreshments table. Most seemed in a hurry to leave and get to work. Nice as the food looked, the entire tower had been closed for two weeks while federal investigators, police, tower security, and city safety inspectors did their investigations. All but two levels of the parking garage were finally open for use and there were a lot of bosses anxious for their people to get back to work.

In fact, with their considerable height, Brenda’s bosses could easily be seen despite the milling crowd. Papyrus strode through the crowd, his intimidating height and appearance dividing the masses before him. Donna followed, taking advantage of his wake to begin working on her phone. Near the middle of the room and entirely lacking any form of intimidation, Brenda saw there was little chance of getting out of the room with any haste. She settled in for a wait as the rabbit monster, Polf, pressed a hand to her chest and sighed with relief. “Oh.” The rabbit then flinched, her ears bouncing behind her as she covered her mouth with her other hand in shame. “Oh! I’m sorry. It must be inappropriate to feel relief right now.”

Brenda patted her arm. “Don’t worry. Most of the humans here were just as uncomfortable and feel a little relief, too.”

The rabbit relaxed. “Okay. Thank you. For explaining… earlier, too.” Polf’s ears perked, the tips peeking up from behind her head.

“It’s no problem. When I was a kid, I thought they had bodies at memorials, too.” Brenda waved it off. “I had nightmares when I heard they’d scheduled a memorial assembly for the principal.” She made creepy monst- erm- creepy crawly movements with her fingers.

Polf looked thoughtful. “But, why would humans be bothered? I mean, you’re bodies now. Nothing changes when you die.” She shuddered. “It’s like you Fall Down _forever_.”

Brenda was distracted again by the little movements of Polf’s ears. They looked _so soft._ Maybe softer than the fur on her hand.

Think of something else. “I don’t know what ‘fall down’ means for you, but otherwise; yes. Bodies are spooky. They look just like they did alive… but they’re not.” Brenda grimaced and shrugged. She’d been to a couple funerals and seen the bodies. It was a lot different than movies. “But, uh, if monsters don’t leave bodies…?” She let her voice trail off inquiringly.

“Oh.” Polf said that a lot. “Monsters are made of magic, and not much else. When we die the magic disburses and only dust is left.” She made a cupping gesture with her hands. “When we hold funerals, the family spreads the dust of their loved ones on their favorite thing.” Her expression was bitter sweet. Clearly, she’d been to some funerals, too.

The crowd started to thin, the bosses were long gone. Polf and Brenda wandered from the room at a relaxed pace. The crowd thinned close to Polf and the other monsters who’d chosen to attend the memorial. Polf spoke up as they walked. “If you don’t mind my asking, what company do you work for?” It was neither an unwelcome nor unexpected change of topic.

“I do data entry and forms for Adam’s Co.” Brenda said.

Polf giggled. “Me too! I’m in section eight.”

“No kidding? That’s right below us. I’m in section four.”

Again, the monster’s hands went to her chest and mouth. “Oh! Section, section four? Really?” Her tone lowered as if they’d returned to the subject of funerals and death.

“Yes.”

“I’ve heard it’s terrible there! The section leader and executive…” Polf hummed in dismay, her ears drooping again.

Brenda chuckled. She knew well from Abby what the general impression was of their section. “It’s not that bad. Donna and Papyrus are strict, but they’re also fair and they care about us.”

“Papyrus?” Polf asked. “No last name, Papyrus? With a…” She made a scratching motion over her eye to mimic the crack.

“Yes, him.” Brenda insisted. “He even sent me flowers when I was hurt!”

Polf was skeptical, as if she doubted she’d believe even if she saw it. “Oh.”

They rode the elevator together, chatting some more about nothing in particular until Polf stepped off at her floor. The sweet monster cheerfully waved farewell and Brenda returned the gesture before the elevator doors were closed.

When Brenda walked into section four’s cubicle village, she saw Papyrus standing outside his office, surrounded by other section workers. The skeleton was barking out orders. “Carson; follow up on the Pruit, McKale, and Kuznetov, and Verde-Martinez affiliates’ activities over the past three weeks and this week. Completed reports on my desk by Thursday.” Emma Carson scurried back to her cubicle. “Wounded-Arrow, focus your team on the Junger Account. Three-week activity report and copies of the most recent contracts being negotiated, _today_.” Chris Wounded-Arrow took the packet Donna passed to him and his team moved to the side of the room to confer before heading for their separate cubicles. Papyrus continued to give out work to individuals and small, pre-assigned ‘teams’.

Brenda drew close, standing between Abby and Celeste. “Verbal assignments?” She asked in a low voice. Usually work was assigned by email.

“Yep.” Celeste confirmed, listening intently as more assignments were given out.

“Apparently our little ‘vacation’ was not well prepared for.” Abby noted in a tone that suggested there would be _such_ juicy gossip to spill later. “And last Friday, Comstock Unlimited got raided by the feds.”

“Seriously? Comstock?” Brenda demanded.

“Yep.” Celeste confirmed.

Abby’s curls trembled their distress over not being able to dish the details just yet. “So, everything’s going to heck in a handbasket and good ol’ Section four is assigned to ‘save the day’.”

“Obviously.” Papyrus boasted, red lights bright and sharp, interlocking teeth tilting in a sly smile. The three flinched, unaware that he’d been listening. “It is only natural that the most efficient, productive employees be leaned on more heavily when difficulties arise. Comstock has been a client of Adam’s co. for seventeen years. While they are being financially and legally eviscerated, all ties must be severed as soon as possible. Section four has been rewarded with this delightful puzzle.”

“Makes sense.” Abby agreed reluctantly.

“Uh…” Brenda decided to not comment on Papyrus’s apparent enthusiasm for the extra work.

“Copies of every interaction Adam’s Co. has had with Comstock must be retrieved with digital and physical copies delivered to our CEO’s, Comstock’s remaining un-incarcerated executives, and to the federal investigators. Everything is to be ready by Friday morning, Ms Taylor.” Celeste Taylor nodded, Donna gave her a deceptively small folder with more detailed instructions on the assignment.

Brenda swallowed and shared a look of dread with Abby, Celeste was their team leader. The Comstock fiasco was now their piece of the ‘delightful puzzle’.

This was to be the first of a long chain of late nights.

When Celeste finally declared they were finished for the day and Brenda had gathered her things, Donna gave her a brief nod as Brenda left her cubicle. Abby was still getting her stuff together, so Brenda curiously stepped over to look into Papyrus’s office. Sure enough, he was still at his own desk, intently focused. Brenda could only shake her head at the bosses' dedication.

She and Abby left together. Abby took a deep breath, then began serving up a six-course gossip meal covering all things company related. Abby had all the information on who had been stuck working from home or temporary offices to keep Adams co alive during their temporary banishment from the tower, how other companies had responded to the diminished activity, and exactly how scandalous the affair with Comstock was. Brenda listened as they left the tower and walked a few city blocks to the nearest subway station. By the time Abby had to leave on her train, she’d managed to unload the bulk of her information and waved goodbye to Brenda with a promise to divulge the rest at another time.

Brenda’s own train arrived several minutes later and by the time she reached her stop the sun had set on Calloway city. From the subway station, Brenda caught a bus. The heater wasn’t working properly, so Brenda and the other passengers huddled in their jackets away from the still cold spring nights.

At her stop, Brenda half-jogged to her building. The reception desk behind cracked bullet proof glass was unmanned again and some of the lights in the stairwell were dim or flickering, but Brenda chose to skip the elevator as usual and walked up to the third floor. Her apartment was at the opposite end of the hall from the stairs -and a few dollars cheaper rent for the trouble. While her building wasn’t the Ritz, Brenda had been lucky to get an apartment without the stereotypical ‘screaming’ or ‘obnoxious’ neighbors and she was relatively sure nobody was selling illegal products or services -on her floor, at least. Mostly Brenda’s neighbors were people like her who left to get to work by nine and on good days showed up again some time after five.

Brenda could hear televisions, music, and some conversation from different apartments as she passed. After nine by now, she might even be the last one home.

The door was unlocked. Brenda grimaced and wasn't surprised to push it open and find her roommate sitting on the couch, watching Celebrity Cat Fights or one of its spin-offs and eating take-out. Brenda's roommate didn’t greet her, but she did turn the volume down a little.

Brenda went to the kitchen to make dinner. It was too late for coffee, so she was forced to neglect her beloved French press. It was a shame, coffee was the only thing Brenda knew how to ‘cook’. She grabbed a freezer meal. The box was plastered with claims of being a full, healthy meal ready in three minutes despite not containing any actual vegetables. Brenda tossed that in the microwave and because veggies are important, she also nuked a bag of frozen vegetable blend.

Dinner was pushed from the microwave containers to a plate because Brenda was high class. She sat in a chair next to the couch to eat, idly watching two… ? Well, two people with silicon chests and lips scream at each other over a man who didn't pay either of them any attention. Despite being short and unremarkable, Brenda’s evening was normal.

It felt so good to get back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose you could say this is the end of ‘part one’.  
> In addition to bla-bla-bla establishing stuff; this part is defined by the worst ratio of OC humans to monster interaction compared to the rest of the story, expect more monsters in future chapters. Thank you for holding out this far.
> 
> I put my other story on hiatus, but I’ve been updating this one so slowly it seems silly to call it that, so I’ll just say Affirmative Action will have regular monthly updates in 2020.  
> Happy Thanksgiving!  
> Merry Christmas!  
> Happy New Year!


	5. The Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brenda's normal is again put to an end, it won't be back.

Kerry sat on the couch, eating cold leftover pizza and watching the latest celebrity gossip show -some scandal between the queen of hip-hop and a Napstatton. If it weren’t for the change in junk food, Brenda would have no proof her roommate moved from the couch since Adams Co. had resumed normal working hours a month prior.

As usual, they didn’t say a word to each other while Brenda stuffed her lunch in her purse and left the apartment, locking the door behind her.

The spring had long since given way to summer and the commute to work was almost, _almost_ pleasant. Brenda checked social media on her phone. On the bus she Liked some of the pictures she’d been tagged in at the mall or theater. On the subway, Brenda scrolled through the first of what was sure to be many waves of photos from Abby’s vacation. Exiting the station, Brenda joined the line of people who preferred to walk up the escalators and upon reaching the surface she bee-lined for her favorite food truck. The food wasn’t great -not _bad_ but not great- but what mattered was the _coffee_. This guy served the best iced coffee and starting her day with one was a must for Brenda, preferably without getting hit by street water afterwards.

Brenda reached into her purse for the reusable travel cup she’d taken to carrying and was surprised to feel her phone’s vibrations. Between the coffee grinder in the food truck and the noise of morning rush hour, she hadn’t heard it. It wasn’t until Brenda pulled the phone out of her bag that she faintly could hear her work group’s ringtone.

The caller ID read ‘Slave Driver’. Brenda frowned in confusion before answering. “Hello, Donna? What’s up?”

“ _Brenda, can you be here early? At the office, I mean._ ” Of course ‘here’ meant ‘the office’. Brenda was as convinced Donna lived at the office as she was of her roommate’s unemployment status.

Inhaling deeply -the scent of fresh coffee taunting her- Brenda stepped out of line. “I’m on my way.” She said, reluctantly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“ _Good. We’ll see you shortly._ ” Donna replied, then disconnected.

Brenda grumbled over the loss of her morning coffee and did her best to hurry without running while shoving her phone and travel mug back in her purse. The foot traffic was always heavy this time of day. It was easy enough to weave through at first, until the inevitable slowdown at the foot bridge that spanned over the highway. The bridge was no narrower than the sidewalks leading to it, but people always slowed and crowded as they passed over in opposite directions. There was a joke floating about that people were living there, stuck in the cross current and surviving for years by stealing coffee and pastries from passerby. It was generally assumed that these were the people responsible for providing competent tech support or handing out promotions because those jobs clearly weren’t being done.

As the foot traffic condensed around her, Brenda hopped a little. Successfully annoying the people around her, she tried to spot a slipstream in the human traffic. The crowd thinned some close to the chain-link fence that surrounded the bridge. It was an unpopular place to walk because the noise and pressure from the cars below as well as the risk of snagging good work clothes on rough patches of the metal fencing. Today, it would be worth the discomfort to reach Lee Tower faster and find out just why she’d been asked to come in.

Brenda pushed past a few people, muttering apologies before finding the slightly less crowded track. Dirt and garbage kicked from the rest of the bridge gathered near the edge and crunched under Brenda’s shoes as she shimmied along, not quite walking straight but still able to outpace the people who were shying a little away from the fence. The cars rushed below her, dragging air under the bridge with them and creating a vacuum that pulled at Brenda’s hair and clothes. It was just a minor annoyance and Brenda almost considered making this route a habit until she scratched the back of her hand on a tiny metal bur.

Nope. She didn’t want to risk replacing her work clothes that often.

Halfway across the bridge was a maintenance access gate. Brenda was idly noting the fancy steel scrollwork around the gate when she felt a hand on her shoulder, shoving.

The gate held when Brenda fell onto it. The force of the push caused her to bounce off the structure and jostle other passing workers. They pushed her back into the gate. The second bump knocked the latch free of the mortise. The gate swung open over the busy roadway. For one surreal moment, Brenda made eye contact with a city worker strapped to the side of the bridge, maintaining the traffic signs. His shock was equal to Brenda’s. After that, Brenda barely had time to scream.

She struck the roof of an SUV. The vehicle’s speed and height dragged her under the bridge before it sent her toward the windshield of the car behind. Something darted between Brenda and the oncoming car. Powerful arms wrapped around her waist and brought her to a stop as the cars around them braked and traffic started backing up.

“Hang on! I’ll getcha back up.” Brenda was hoisted over her rescuer’s shoulder where she caught a good look at a thick yellow tail and a car of shocked humans before the monster leapt upwards. They came out from under the bridge and Brenda heard the chain-link crash and sing as the monster carrying her caught it and climbed up, then gave a shout “RAAAAAUGH!” as they topped the gate and jumped down into the crowd, which barely scattered in time for a landing that would have been unbearably jarring if Brenda wasn’t being supported by such a broad set of shoulders.

The monster who’d saved her life set Brenda back on her feet. Brenda was too dazed to decide if the yellow police officer in front of her was a dragon or a lizard.

“There ya are, human! Safe and… aw hell. Sorry man. N-not a perfect rescue.” The burley reptile monster’s one good eye saw Brenda cradling her wrist before Brenda had time to consciously register the injury. The monster gently reached out and started examining Brenda’s arm. The sliding of blunted claws over the surface of Brenda’s skin might have been soothing if seeing the wrong angle of her wrist didn’t send her brain into a further tailspin.

“What…” Brenda couldn’t process. She barely recognized that she wasn’t dead. Her mind didn’t want to take in anything else. Pain didn’t care, it was trying to bull its way through her shock.

Brenda saw the city worker on the other side of the bridge, scooting on his harness toward the wide-open gate that people were giving hardly a glance toward as they shied around the gap. He reached the passageway and regained his footing on the bridge, then pulled the gate in and struggled to close it.

“Ma’am, or is it m-Miss?” The monster cop drew her attention again. “Are you feeling okay?” No. Brenda was not feeling okay. Her fingers were twitching unpleasantly with her still rapid pulse and she kept being distracted by the flashes of orange that were the city worker’s safety jacket and helmet. The usual hum of traffic and people on the bridge seemed muted.

The officer gently returned Brenda’s wrist so she could cradle it protectively to her stomach and keyed the mic on her shoulder to request an ambulance.

Meanwhile, a human police officer was trying to push his way through the crowd toward them. “Alphys!” The office workers had mostly stopped staring at the two oddities on the bridge and resumed walking, making it difficult for the large, muscular cop to push through without hurting anyone. He finally made it into the shrinking gap carved out of the human tide that Brenda and the monster officer stood in. “Alphys, that was AWESOME!” The human officer crowed.

The monster laughed proudly. “I know! Totally!”

The human officer turned to Brenda, yanking on a professional expression of concern like an experienced quick-change stage actor. “Ma’am, are you alright?” Officer Alphys made an angry noise and her partner glanced at Brenda’s wrist, which was now visibly swelling. “Right, I apologize.”

He turned to the monster who grunted, “I already called for medics, and Public Works.”

The human nodded and pulled a memo pad and pen from his belt, looking around and noting the city worker still struggling with the gate and a few office workers who were standing around, defying the rest of the tide. “Ma’am, will you be okay with Officer Alphys? I’m sure you’ve noticed she’d extremely competent.” The reptile allowed a smile at the praise.

Brenda didn’t really hear what the question was, but recognized that it was a question enough to respond with an absent nod. The officer then hurried away, fighting the tide again, to gather fresh witness statements and information before the opportunity was lost.

Officer Alphys drew out her own notebook. “Ma’am, medical assistance will be here shortly. Could I have your name please?” Brenda told her. The monster cop continued to ask her simple questions about her identity and contact information while gradually leading Brenda from the bridge. The questions helped to orient Brenda, allowing her to start shaking off the sense of distance that was pressing on her mind. By the time they reached the end of the bridge, the ambulance was weaving through the morning traffic, trying to get close.

Once again, Brenda submitted herself to the care of paramedics. They helped her onto a gurney and it wasn’t until one of the paramedics set her purse next to her that Brenda realized she was still holding it. How had she managed that?

Distracting herself from the medic splinting her wrist, Brenda plucked open her purse and found her phone. The screen was cracked, but lit up and the ambulance was filled with Brenda’s work group ringtone.

Donna was calling.

Brenda answered the call and, without saying a word, handed the phone to Officer Alphys. The monster blinked at the phone. She looked at the human and saw Brenda was probably still too shocked to speak, so took the device as indicated. Officer Alphys soon explained the situation to Brenda’s boss while the medics finished their splinting, initial exam, and gave Brenda an IV in her good arm and an oxygen mask over her face. The oxygen helped to clear Brenda’s mind.

Finished talking, the officer set the phone on Brenda’s gurney where she could reach it. “Someone’s coming to ride with her.” Alphys told the medic, who just nodded and continued to work. Apparently, Brenda was in no immediate danger. Now that she was a little more focused, Alphys took Brenda’s statement of events, smirking when Brenda came to the part with Alphy’s spectacular rescue -which still boggled Brenda’s mind.

When they finished, Officer Alphys flipped through the pages for a minute, frowning. “Is that everything?”

“Yes.” Brenda replied, feeling tired. Was it really still early morning?

“And you’re sure the gate was closed before you were pushed?”

Brenda had spent hours being interrogated by FBI and other cops over the tower bombing. The tone in this cop’s voice was different, not satisfied with her answer. She frowned. “Yes?”

“You’re sure you saw that it was closed?”

“Yes! I was-”

“CLEAR THE WAY!”

“LET US THROUGH! _NOW_!”

Brenda grimaced and tried to scoot further into the ambulance as the paramedics and cop looked up in alarm. “Oh, my bosses are here… both of them…” Brenda noted.

Moses and the Red Sea: Section 4 Team Leaders and the footbridge traffic. The masses parted before their combined advance. As they drew close, the two divided without apparent signal. Papyrus went to Officer Alphys and immediately demanded, “What has happened to my employee?”

Donna went to Brenda and in much the same tone demanded, “What happened to you?”

Brenda repeated, again, what had happened while Donna listened, grim faced. As the story was repeated, a city works truck pulled up behind the ambulance and more maintenance workers headed for the maintenance gate.

When the retelling finally came to a close, the paramedics spoke up. “Ma’am? Will you be riding with her? We really need to get that wrist properly treated.”

Donna looked regretful when she shook her head. “No. The company would like one of our security guards to ride with Brenda.”

Again, Brenda couldn’t make sense of that but this time it wasn’t due to her shocky confusion. “What? Why?”

“A guard from the tower will be accompanying you.” Donna repeated. “We’ll explain later, after you’ve been to the hospital. This pertains to the meeting you’re missing.”

“What?” Brenda had completely forgotten her need to get to work early.

Donna tried to give Brenda a friendly smile, but it was tight with worry. “We’ll talk after you’re patched up.” She said.

“ **GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!** ” This voice Brenda didn’t recognize, but Papyrus was smirking darkly and the only one not to turn around or lean out of the ambulance to see who was making such a ruckus. “ **MOVE! I MUST PASS YOU INS- … MAKE WAY, HUMANS! I MUST PASS!** ” The sea of human traffic didn’t part so readily for this one, despite their volume. It took much longer after his voice made his approach known for the guard to finally break free of the crowd and be seen. Though she hadn’t met him, Brenda had seen the skeleton in Tower Security uniform making his rounds at work and she might have seen him at the memorial two months back.

Black took a moment to smooth his uniform before approaching the ambulance. “I have arrived to defend Allan Co’s valued employee.” The diminutive guard announced.

“Is… is he for real?” One of the medics asked in an undertone. Brenda didn’t have an answer.

Not two hours later Brenda was convinced; Black was for real.

One hundred and twenty percent. In just a couple hours, Brenda was sure of it.

 “YOU FOOL HUMAN! DID YOU THINK I WOULD FAIL TO DEFEND MY CHARGE?”

The doctor grunted, pinned to the wall by the blunt end of a magically constructed red bone as long as a broom and as wide around the shaft as a streetlight post. Black himself stood dramatically between Brenda and the halfwit with a doctorate in medicine. A second bone construct, smaller and reminiscent of a club, hovered near one skeletal hand.

Brenda pressed up against the opposite corner of the room, curled up on the examining table with her knees drawn up protectively in front of her bruised, swollen wrist.

The doctor snarled. “NURSE! SECURITY!”

A registered nurse hurried into the room, aghast at the sight of the human doctor being assaulted by a monster while a human patient huddled in obvious fear and pain. “CALL SECURITY!” The nurse also yelled. Outside the curtained off examining room things seemed to fall still, the previous hospital bustle subdued as people realized a different kind of emergency might be afoot.

Black barely afforded the nurse a cautious glance, keeping his attention on the doctor. The nurse glanced around again and noticed the clipboard where Brenda’s initial medical chart was being kept. Cautiously, he picked it up, then sidestepped further away from Black, trying to get closer to Brenda. The skeleton made no move to stop the nurse, but it was clear he was dividing more of his attention, should it be necessary.

“You’ll go to jail for this.” The doctor snarled at Black. “Or the pound! They’ll put you down like the rabid stray you are!”

The skeleton snorted derisively at the doctor but didn’t otherwise react to the insults.

“Doctor?” The nurse spoke up. He stared hard at Brenda’s paperwork and sounded distant, as if the armed and dangerous magical monster wasn’t the most pressing matter. “You did ensure the patient had received adequate pain management prior to manipulating her fracture, yes?”

“Of course!” The doctor snapped. “Are you insinuating this… _monster_ attacking me is my fault?”

The nurse looked from Black to Brenda. Brenda was still curled up in the corner of the examining table, her side pressed to the wall, cradling her wrist and huffing in pain. Beneath her hospital gown, bruises were blooming on one side of her body, barely visible as the worst of these injuries were being sheltered by the same wall. She was huffing, trying to reduce the pain, but she managed the tiniest of head shakes toward the nurse.

The RN still wasn’t happy about the skeleton monster in the room, but that was preferable to the state of his patient. “I’ll have a word with security. Can I get you a chair, Mr…” He tilted his head and read the tag on the skeleton’s uniform. “Black?”

“I shall remain standing.” Black insisted.

“WHAT THE HELL? GET SECURITY IN HERE, IMMEDIATELY!” The doctor barked.

The nurse gestured offhandedly to Black before leaving the examination room. “He is security. See the uniform?” He flicked the curtain shut behind him.

“Both of you…” The doctor snarled, face darkening past red in his impotent rage. “ _Both_ of you will go to jail for this! I’ll sue you for every penny you think your worth!”

“ISOLENT HUM-”

“SHUT UP!” Both the doctor and Black looked at Brenda in surprise. Brenda huffed again, bracing herself before continuing. “The nurse is right! I haven’t got pain meds and you’re trying to set my wrist? What is wrong with you? I need a _real_ doctor, n-not some idiot college rat! Just sh-shut up ‘til that nurse comes back with someone who knows what they’re doing.” She had to stop and breath, shouting made her wrist throb. It had been manageable until the doctor had messed with it but now… After a moment, before the doctor could speak again, Brenda closed her eyes and enunciated carefully and clearly, “I insist on another doctor. I’m using my Right to Refuse Care so long as you are the doctor.”

The doctor’s face paled -or rather, pulled back from purple to red again- and Black looked smug, nasal structures rising in the air.

The male nurse returned again soon after with another doctor -older than the first- and a couple guards in uniforms that matched the cut of Black’s uniform but in blue and white instead of grey. The new doctor looked the crowded room over. Brenda was still guarding her wrist, Black still guarding Brenda, the resident doctor failing to guard his pride, and red magic cast fascinating lights and shadows over the entire scene.

“I demand you remove this _creature_ immediately!” The first doctor barked. “This freak assaulted me! IS assaulting me!”

The new -older- doctor sighed and smoothed some grey hairs back into place before she took Brenda’s chart from the nurse and reviewed it. “Doctor… there’s no record of pain management here.” She said.

The guards who had been eyeing Black both looked to where Brenda was starting to shiver in exhaustion, then glared at the resident.

“MY CHARGE REFUSES CARE IF THIS FOOL IS TO BE PRESENT!” Black reported. Brenda nodded.

“Understood.” The senior doctor agreed readily. “Would you be so kind as to release the fool so he can get his ass out of my orthopedic ward?”

“Very well.” Black allowed. He waved a hand dismissively and the two bone constructs vanished. The resident made a move as if to confront Black, but Black only sneered at him as the two guards stepped in, the male nurse behind them, all making it clear it was time to leave.

Within ten minutes of the resident’s departure, Brenda was finally receiving the pain medication she needed. A competent nurse reduced the fracture and set a cast as soon as the medication took effect. Black eyed everyone who approached Brenda with haughty suspicion until they were finally left alone while her new cast set.

Pillows and blankets had been found and the head of the examining table raised to make Brenda more comfortable while they waited. From the way the room was spinning and her body felt like it could float away at any moment Brenda suspected the doctor authorized some pretty strong drugs to make up for the earlier debacle.

It took Brenda a few minutes to assure herself through the haze that she was, indeed, alone with her guard. Now was the time to tell him of her most pressing thoughts. Well, her second most pressing thoughts. She was pretty sure the ceiling tiles were dancing because of the drugs and he wouldn’t be able to interpret the movements for her.

“Mr. Black?”

“Yes, human? What is it?”

“Thank you.”

It might have been the wrong thing to say. His ego swelled, inflating his chest and tilting his head up. “Of course, human! I, the Maleficent Sans Black, would never fail in my duty to defend valued resources of tower or company! Truly, I almost amaze myself! The vast breadth and depth of my talents…” And so he went.

One hundred and twenty percent; for real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some who might be familiar with city works and safety regulations might be clucking your tongues at me.  
> That wasn't a plot hole.


	6. Speak Plainly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of injury and treatment.  
> Still not a plot hole.

The ceiling tiles had finished their dance by the time Brenda was wheeled into a private room to change and sign paperwork. She was pretty sure the medication wasn’t responsible for how surprising it was to see her bosses already in the room, waiting. Papyrus was reviewing some papers and Donna was irritably pacing with her phone to her ear. Both put their work away when Brenda came in with Black still at her side.

Papyrus addressed Brenda from easily three feet overhead. “I trust you have received adequate medical treatment for your injuries?”

“Yes.” Brenda patted the sling her wrist now rested in. She wouldn’t have dreamed of the gesture three hours prior but now the arm was entirely, blessedly, numb. “Mr. Black made sure they took care of me.”

“Hm.” Papyrus hummed inscrutably, eyeing his fellow skeleton. Black remained in his usual position beside Brenda; arms crossed, eyes level, and studiously ignoring Papyrus.

“We’re glad you’re okay.” Donna said, her personal relief evident. She then cleared her throat and fully engaged herself back into work mode. Brenda couldn’t help the silly grin that spread across her face as she watched the switch. “About this morning. You know you’re free to speak with the press at any time. However, when it pertains to Adams Co., we do prefer you do so with a representative.”

Brenda’s silly grin faded.

Papyrus added. “To be clear; you are in no trouble whatsoever. However, we would like to know why you waited until now to speak to the press.”

Brenda stared at Papyrus. Then she stared at Donna. After a minute she looked down at her sling, wondering if maybe the drugs were messing with her memory. She turned to Black. “Did I talk to a reporter after they fixed my hand?”

Black sniffed. “No reporters made themselves known in my presence.” He said.

Brenda turned back to her bosses, good hand pointing to Black.

“We were referring to this past weekend.” Papyrus clarified.

Donna added, “The meeting I asked you to attend this morning was about the statement you made over the weekend.”

Brenda’s pointing hand switched to herself. “Me? No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t make a statement. I know I didn’t.” It had been a busy weekend with friends. Shopping, good food, bad movies, no reporters.

“You’re sure you spoke to no representatives of the press?” Papyrus pressed. “No -erm- ‘bloggers’ or ‘podcasters’?”

“Do you have any friends who post a vlog?” Brenda suggested.

Brenda just kept shaking her head, the motion starting to look unnatural.

“I didn’t talk to anybody about the bomb. Nobody asks and I don’t want to talk about it. I usually don’t talk about work at all.” Brenda insisted. She finally remembered to stop shaking her head, the room kept shaking anyway. “I didn’t think anybody even knew I was there!”

“It was also my understanding that your name was withheld in most reports.” Papyrus mused. Black nodded, confirming his suspicions.

Donna took a deep breath and let it out through her nose. She retrieved her phone from her attaché case. A few taps and some swipes on the screen brought up what she wanted, and she handed the phone to Brenda, tapping once more to start a video. “They know now.”

Brenda carefully held the phone as the video played. It was a piece from a major news station and above the ticker tape ran the headline ‘Motive in Lee Tower Bombing.’

Serious looking reporters eagerly stated that evidence surfaced indicating the tower bombing was an anti-monster protest targeting the two major companies in the tower which had been most public in their support of the mayor’s Monster Integration Initiative policies. The reporters never said what the evidence was, but they continued saying an employee of one of these companies had been injured in the bombing and gave a statement supporting the company’s hiring of monsters. Brenda’s picture appeared on the screen, taken from one of her social media pages. The reporters announced which company she worked for, what floors Adams Co. occupied, and her name.

Brenda stopped the video as the reporters began summarizing the same few facts everyone had heard a thousand times about the bombing -the date, six dead, unknown suspect, and now their assertion that this was an anti-monster integration protest.

She panned around the webpage for a date and time. The video had been posted the previous evening and already had nearly a million hits, not including anyone who had seen it on television, heard it over the radio, or who knew how many other websites had broadcast the same story. “But…” Brenda feebly tried to argue. “I didn’t… I mean, I do but I didn’t… Can they do that?” She looked up at Donna, Black, and Papyrus. “I didn’t agree to anyone putting my name or picture out like that. I didn’t even _talk_ to anyone.” She swallowed. Somewhere under the pain medication in her system she thought she felt that heaviness that had haunted her after the bombing flaring up. She hadn’t felt much it since the memorial. She didn’t want it to come back.

“I’m afraid the laws protecting the news media are pretty broad and hard, more so than those protecting individuals.” Donna warned, taking her phone back.

Brenda whined, rubbing her face with her good hand, then looking down at her sling. She started cradling her injury again though it was still numb and now well protected. “Last night. And this morning. You don’t think… do you… think…?” Her voice trailed off before she could even finish the thought.

Papyrus and Black’s eye lights both went narrow and sharp, watching her closely. “You suspect a connection between the news article and your fall?” Papyrus suggested.

Brenda relaxed her grip on her sling. “No, probably not.” She said, though the paranoia in her gut seemed to be making friends with the heavy knot of dread and feelings. Her denial didn’t work on the skeletons. Black finally deigned it worth his while to look up at Papyrus, the two of them silently speculating.

Everyone jumped when Colin Ray began fretting over who was at his door. Brenda recovered first and fished her phone out of her personal effects bag to silence the Men at Work and their sax, dismissing the unknown caller before dropping her phone back into the bag.

“The company will make some inquiries but, as Ms. Ricci said, there isn’t a great deal which can be done -legally.” Papyrus spoke the last word in the manner of someone who wasn’t particularly bothered by legalities. It made the crack in his skull and the grit in his voice a little more obvious. Black made a small noise that Brenda was tempted to interpret as agreeing with Papyrus.

The taller skeleton lifted his briefcase from the floor and cracked it open, his large hands easily keeping the sides from falling open as he reached inside for something. “As for today and tomorrow; you are again dismissed from work to begin recuperating. Inform Ms. Ricci immediately if you require more time for convalescent leave.” Barely had Brenda thought how familiar those words were than a small bouquet of white tulips landed in her lap. Papyrus snapped his briefcase closed and marched from the room before Brenda had time to recognize the flowers. Black followed him.

The flowers, the memory, and the medication all helped to sweep away the negative thoughts that had been haunting Brenda moments before. She carefully picked up the flowers and snickered, then giggled as she buried her nose in the petals. “Thank you, Papyrus.”

Donna smiled at her laughter. “I’ll pass your thanks on when I see him again.” She promised.

Their amusement was interrupted by Colin Ray’s increasing paranoia. Brenda again fished her phone out of the bag, blocked the number, and turned on Do-Not-Disturb before dropping her phone back into the bag.

Though a little rough for wear, Brenda had managed to talk the medics out of cutting her work clothes off and she was able to change back into them. Donna offered to help, but Brenda refused the favor -a decision she regretted silently as the bruises along one side of her body stiffened her movements even if the medication kept the pain at bay. The nurses took one last set of vitals and Brenda promised to come back in if there was any sign of concussion or neck strain before they gave her the discharge paperwork to sign.

Black was waiting outside the hospital room when Brenda was wheeled out. He handed her a baseball cap and sunglasses. “Human, you will wear these.” He directed. Brenda did as she was told, though the cap obviously didn’t match her work clothes. A nurse wheeled Brenda out of the hospital and into the lobby where about a half dozen people with press cards were waiting. A couple of them noticed Brenda in her wheelchair and the monster guarding her. They came closer and asked if Brenda was… Brenda. Donna and Black put themselves between Brenda and the reporters while the nurse pushed Brenda’s wheelchair out to a taxi. Donna and Black joined her for the trip to her apartment building.

“How did they know I was at the hospital?” Brenda asked as the taxi driver picked their way through the city traffic. “Why were they even looking for me?”

Donna shook her head and sighed, but Black said, “Human technology makes espionage very easy. They put everything on their ‘internet’ where only a limited knowledge of programming is necessary to ‘hack’ almost any information.”

That wasn’t comforting.

There were two more people waiting outside Brenda’s apartment building. Black and Donna again ran interference as Brenda went inside. They saw her to her apartment door before leaving, making her promise to call if she needed anything or any trouble arose. Neither was willing to leave until they’d heard Brenda lock the door behind her.

Brenda was surprised to find the couch empty and the apartment felt unoccupied for a change. She dropped her purse and kicked off her shoes, then flopped gracelessly on the couch. Turning her head, Brenda stared at the television. Against her better judgement, she grabbed the remote. It took a minute to find a news station and she watched several minutes of commercials, a couple vapid celebrity features, sports highlights, weather -rain expected Thursday. The news headlines weren’t much more pressing than the celebrity pieces until Brenda was again confronted with her own picture on the news.

Reporters stated that she’d left the hospital with minor injuries.

Brenda flinched and snapped off the television. She tossed the remote away from her and pushed off the couch. Her plan was to distract herself with her phone, some games or something, so she retrieved her purse and dug out her phone.

17 missed calls from unknown numbers.

~*~*~

The following morning Brenda’s pain medication had worn off and she severely regretted not following the nurse’s advice to start her prescriptions the night before. After first dragging herself out of bed to medicate, she later had to drag herself out of bed to deal with a persistent knocking.

Her roommate was still gone. Hopefully this meant Kerry had finally gotten a job.

Two police officers, an older cop who didn’t look like he hit the streets much anymore and a tall, blue and red scaled fish monster, held up their identification and asked to come inside.

Brenda stepped back and did the best she could as a hostess in her pajamas with her arm in a cast and head fogging up again from the meds.

They sat in the living room went over the previous morning’s events again. The tall fish monster -officer ‘Undyne’- gave a short hissing laugh when Brenda described being rescued by officer Alphys. “Congrats, ma’am, you’ve met the only two monsters on the force.” She quickly composed herself and allowed her partner to proceed with the questioning while she scribbled notes in her notebook.

The senior officer, White, made Brenda explain in detail again and again what had happened and why she was so sure she was pushed. Again, and again, she was asked to describe the hand that pushed her.

“It was large, bigger than mine. It was probably a man.” She mimicked with her good hand. “The thumb was on one side of my arm and the fingers on the other, kind of spread but not really.”

“It was a large hand?” Officer White clarified, again.

“Yes, it was big.”

“Unusually large, or just big?”

“Just big, maybe a little bigger than yours.” Brenda pointed at the officer and he lifted an eyebrow at his hand as if asking when it had joined them.

“Ms. Laudstrum. I have to be honest with you. Are you aware of the safety standards required of all maintenance accessways like the one on the 8th street footbridge?”

Brenda thought about it. “No, sir.”

“Ma’am, according to these standards, all hinged city maintenance hatches, doors, gates -what have you- must open in only one direction to minimize risk. For example, the gate you fell through was designed to only open inward, toward the sidewalk. It is inspected annually.” Brenda listened politely but didn’t quite understand his point, or why his partner had tensed up. “Yesterday, after your fall, city workers shut and locked the gate until the area could be blocked off. Once it was safe to do so, they were unable to repair the gate. It was undamaged and they found it impossible to open the gate over the highway again.” He leaned forward, driving his point harder. “I’ve seen the gate myself, Ms. Laudstrum. It is _impossible_ for the gate to open over the highway undamaged. If not for several witnesses including the city worker all corroborating your story; you’d still be in the hospital for a psych evaluation.” He sighed. “Considering the circumstances, I have to ask you again; are you positive it was a man’s hand that pushed you. Please be very sure.”

The monster cop grimaced and muttered something likely profane under her breath. She dropped her pen and held out her hand so that Brenda could clearly see it. Her glare was challenging as Brenda looked the hand over, eyes wide. The hand and fingers were covered in bright blue scales, darkening some toward the fingertips. Between the fingers stretched thin membranes of red webbing. The fingers themselves were slender and long, making them ‘a little bigger’ than her human partner’s hands. She obviously wasn’t happy with the insinuation is questions were leading toward, but she was honest in her pursuit of justice by making sure Brenda understood what the alternative might be.

Brenda gaped, opening and closing her mouth in stunned silence as she realized what he was getting at. What made the impossible possible? Magic. He wanted her to state definitively whether or not a monster had or could have pushed her. A monster who might have the magic to force a gate to defy how it was built.

But the hand was strange. Bright, eye catching colors. A little too long. The tips of the fingers lacked nails and were like Brenda had never seen before. Monsters were too new. Even in Brenda’s office where they were getting comfortable with Papyrus, Woshua, Black, and the other monster employees it would have been impossible, completely impossible, for a monster to get that close to her without several people seeing and noticing _monster._

Brenda wasn’t protecting anyone when she shifted in her seat, sitting straight and stating as clearly as possible, “Officer, a large, _human_ hand -probably a man’s- pushed me yesterday. I’m very sure.”

The monster wrote down her statement, looking like she was barely containing some powerful emotional response. The human officer was quiet as he absorbed Brenda’s answer, nodded, and stood. He held out a hand and Brenda shook it best she could with her cast on her right hand. “That will be all, Ms. Laudstrum.” He pulled a card from his belt and handed it to her. “If anything else comes up I will keep you informed. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter.” He then dropped his professionally neutral tone into something just on the edge of grandfatherly. “Please be safe.”

Officer Undyne also shook her hand, irregular yellow teeth bared in a huge smile that -frankly- made Brenda want to take more of those meds the doctor prescribed. “Thank you for your cooperation. Have a nice day.” She somehow managed to balance professionally scripted and exuberant sincerity in those phrases.

“Ah, you too.”

After seeing the police out of her apartment, Brenda considered how to spend the rest of her day. She debated over all the chores that needed to be done, stretches she’d been told would help the bruises, calling her mother, watching something educational, or logging onto the company system remotely to do some distance work. Options weighed, Brenda decided to sleep in a semi-drug induced fog until the delivery lady came with her pizza and soda. The plan took all day as she kept forgetting to order the pizza.

26 missed calls. She forgot to block them until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't do drugs, kids. Narcotics make me sleepy and slow my brain. Why in the world would anyone want to use them when not in pain?


	7. Spreading Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brenda returns to work. She learns more about what led to the newscast and the fallout that's still coming.
> 
> Warnings and spoilers;  
> Minor character death, hate mail.

Wednesday morning Brenda fully planned on calling Donna and asking for another day or two off. Her arm throbbed viciously, and she stumbled to the bathroom to take her medication before even opening her eyes. After that she carefully splashed some water on her face and wiped dry with one hand, then wandered into the living room in her pajamas to hunt up some breakfast.

Kerry was sitting on the couch, eating chicken from a bucket, watching washed up celebrities compete in an overly complicated game show.

Brenda went back into her room and dressed for work.

Celeste and Jason from her office team were waiting for Brenda at her last subway stop. Celeste tried to update Brenda on the latest gossip, but everyone agreed she was just no replacement for their beloved gossip queen -gone to India for another two weeks. They waited in line with Brenda for her usual morning coffee and Brenda insisted on getting enough for the three of them. Jason practically floated across the footbridge with stars in his eyes -yeah, the coffee was that good. Celeste kept her head down to earth and all but wrapped an arm around Brenda, putting herself between Brenda and the maintenance gate wrapped in chains and warning tape.

11 missed calls by the time Brenda reached her cubicle. She blocked them all.

Nearly everyone signed Brenda’s cast that morning. Flirty notes, jokes, sympathy, and doodles in different colors. Using black ink pen, Donna wrote authorization for Brenda to ‘knit’ on company time. She was more lenient on the start time than usual, allowing everyone who wanted to check on Brenda to do so, but Donna never lost control and had everyone back to work not too long after their usual start time.

Brenda took a moment to find a moderately comfortable position -it required her to sit on one foot to take pressure off a specific bruise on her hip- and began plugging away at her workload with one hand. Donna had assigned her a light schedule, but it was still the most challenging Brenda’s job had been in a while and she found herself almost enjoying it; privately betting whether she could maintain her usual pace if she just pushed herself a little harder.

She managed to get herself in ‘the zone’ pretty well and missed when guard Black walked past her cubicle to speak with Donna. He saw Brenda was back and shared an approving nod with Donna. Brenda was still wholly focused on digging through the company’s digital records for an improperly tagged document when Celeste knocked on her cubicle and startled her. “Ready for lunch?”

Brenda took a deep breath and checked the time. “Oh… right.” She stood. “That sounds grea-AUGH!” She started to fall. Celeste shrieked and darted forward to catch Brenda, but Brenda was already laughing. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She giggled, leaning heavily on her coworker. “I was sitting wrong. My leg fell asleep!”

“What… you?” Celeste took a minute to understand what was happening, then giggled herself. “Don’t scare me like that! If anything happens to you, Abby will kill me!”

Brenda stumbled around her cubicle. “I’m okay.” She insisted, then changed her tune. “No, nope, not okay! Ow! I can feel my leg again! Ow! Pin and needles… no, these are knives, Knives!”

Celeste snickered at Brenda’s distress, but helped her to limp out of the cubicle. “Walk it off, you’ll feel better when the blood is flowing.”

“Yeah… better…” Brenda whined. Celest had a firm arm around Brenda’s shoulders and was squeezing a couple bruises from Brenda’s fall, reminding Brenda that she was due another dose of medication. Finally, Brenda was able to stand on her own. She retrieved her lunch and her purse before the two of them started for the breakroom. “Okay.” Brenda said, getting ready for that good lunchroom chatter. “Tell me about Dan. He finally figured it out?”

“Yep.” Celeste confirmed. “He and Gary were-”

Donna called out to them before they reached the break room. “Brenda? I’m sorry to delay your lunch break, but we need a word with you.”

Brenda stopped. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to prevent cursing. “Later. We’ll chat later.” She told Celeste, then turned and trudged toward Papyrus’s office.

Through the glass wall, Brenda could see it wasn’t just Papyrus and Donna, but Black as well.

That was a _really_ bad sign.

Brenda pushed the door open and entered meekly. “You wanted to speak to me?”

“Yes. Have a seat.” Papyrus said, gesturing to one of the plush seats in front of his desk. Though not keen on being back in a position where she’d be looking up at these three, Brenda did as she was directed. Thankfully, Papyrus sat behind his desk so that he no longer towered over Brenda. Black remained beside the desk in his usual position with feet set, arms crossed. Donna -unusual for her in Papyrus’s office- took another seat. She looked pale and allowed Papyrus to do most of the speaking.

 “As you were told on Monday, the company has been looking into the news report concerning your ‘statement’. Though the reporters’ practices are… questionable,” He grated the word out before continuing, “They are within the letter of the law. You recall Simon Pacheco, the lawyer who saw you in the hospital after the bombing.” Brenda nodded. “You wrote a signed statement at that time. This last weekend Mr. Pacheco’s home was burglarized and many of his office files were stolen. A photocopy of your statement was among the files and this was delivered anonymously to the news media.”

“But…” Brenda tried to remember what she’d written in the statement. It was a short summary of events, mostly. She wrote something about Mr. Skeleton being there, but it wasn’t glowing praise of the company’s new hiring policy. Her feelings about Donna getting passed over had still been too fresh for that.

Thinking of Donna, Brenda looked over to her. Donna was sitting in the other seat, very properly and almost looking herself except there was a tightness to her professional demeaner and her unusually pale skin. Her eyes and her nose were a little red and before she noticed Brenda looking at her Donna carefully dabbed a handkerchief to her nose.

Brenda again looked at Papyrus and Black. A horrible idea came over her. “Mr. Pacheco isn’t here. Is he okay?” Donna didn’t quite suppress a whimper before she pressed her handkerchief over her mouth to suppress it.

“No.” Papyrus said. “Mr. Pacheco was home at the time of the burglary. His body was found yesterday.” The only change in his flat, informative tone was when Papyrus said ‘body’, as if he wasn’t used to the word. However, his eye lights did flicker uncomfortably to Donna. He was aware of Donna’s distress but didn’t share it an didn’t know how to respond to it.

Black appeared to be aloof, but there was something unnatural in the way his violet eye lights moved, staying well away from Donna. “Human! As a resource for this company you must remain alert and on the defensive! I understand those who work in human offices grow soft-” The _glare_ Papyrus shot the guard. “But it is still possible to minimize threats. Take advantage of your vast population and utilize the advantage of numbers to deter single or weak enemies. Maintain your human cellular phone at maximum power capacity. Your human government hinders anticipated uprisings through laws of disarmament, so you must learn and master an alternate means of defense.”

Brenda had to interpret Black’s lecture. Be careful. Travel in pairs or groups. Keep her phone charged. Find some method of self-defense. She might still be in danger and the company couldn’t do anything about it.

There was a prolonged and very tense silence. The writhing weight in Brenda’s stomach was back. She shivered.

Papyrus opened the small drawer at the top of his executive’s desk. “Ms. Laudstrum, if I might see your arm cast for a moment?”

Not sure why, Brenda pulled her cast free of its sling as she stood. She held her arm out for Papyrus. He uncapped a permanent marker and put it to her cast. Black grunted. “I have been informed this human ritual improves morale and healing.” Papyrus explained as much to Black as to Brenda, drawing a tulip on the thumb of her cast.

“A human ritual of healing? Absurd.” Black scoffed, “Human magic is weak!” But when Papyrus was finished the guard snatched the marker and drew the two pieces of a broken bone in a small gap. Brenda would have thought it a joke if the doodle didn’t resemble the weapons he used to defend her in the hospital, and he’d drawn over her actual break.

It felt a little inappropriate after stating that Simon Pacheco had been murdered, but somehow that tulip and those sharp bones made Brenda feel that something was being done to keep an eye on her. The _thing_ in her gut calmed.

Maybe this ‘human ritual’ wasn’t so absurd.

Once Brenda had situated her cast in her sling again, she left Papyrus’s office with Donna behind her. Donna started toward the ladies’ room, but Brenda caught up with her and pulled her into the unoccupied conference room instead -locking the door and dimming the lights to give Donna full privacy. They sat together on one of the tables. Brenda retrieved a clean handkerchief from her bag and gave it to Donna before settling her good arm across Donna’s back. Donna was a quiet crier with little, breathy sobs. Still, though Brenda had hardly known Mr. Pacheco, Donna’s crying drew a few tears from Brenda as well. After several minutes, Donna began pulling herself together, catching her breath and controlling her breathing. “Thank you… I’ll wash this.” She promised, gesturing with the cloth.

“No problem.” Brenda said, then cleared her throat to ease the tightness.

“Don’t think badly of them.”

“Hm?”

“For being so blunt, about Simon.” Donna said. “Papyrus is terrible with emotional issues, and Mr. Black can’t be much better. They can’t help it.”

Brenda hadn’t been thinking anything like that, but she did think it was sweet of Donna to defend them. “Okay.”

“Brenda?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

They were quiet for a few minutes until Donna looked more collected. She inhaled carefully. “Jason walked you from the station?” She asked, genuine concern and changing the subject.

“Jason and Celeste.” Brenda assured her. Teasingly, she added, “Don’t worry, Mom. I said; ‘thank you’.”

Donna narrowed her eyes at Brenda. Brenda smiled back, blinking innocently. Donna flicked the soiled handkerchief at Brenda as if threatening to throw it back in her face or return it to her messy. It was an empty threat. Brenda just hoped Donna wouldn’t dry-clean the thing or something equally extreme before returning it.

Brenda hurried to get lunch and take her next round of medication while Donna returned to her desk -working through lunch again, no doubt. After lunch, Brenda returned to her own cubicle to see that the mail had been delivered. With absolute zero stealth, Brenda went into Abby’s empty cubicle and filched the cute fairy handled letter opener. Donna was frowning at her when Brenda came out of Abby’s cubicle, so Brenda tucked the letter opener into her sling as if Donna hadn’t already seen the thing, then slid into her cubicle, leaving her boss to roll eyes and return to work.

Glad her goofing had helped cheer Donna, if only a little, Brenda piled her mail together as best she could one-handed and set to work opening envelopes by pinning them with her cast and slitting the ends with the letter opener. There were a couple large envelopes containing documents she’d requested. One allowed her to finish the dossier for a meeting Papyrus would attend the next day -excellent. She set the mail aside and quickly finished that task. Returning to the mail, Brenda opened a couple envelopes of junk mail, another memo about the tower’s recycling policy, and a letter envelope. Brenda didn’t recognize the return address on the letter. She slit the envelope and removed the single page.

The letter might as well have been dipped in putrid rot. “…monster fucker… bitch… go to hell…” Brenda frowned, then grimaced as she read, then she spent much too long just staring at the thing in disbelief. She dropped the paper on her desk and wheeled away from it in disgust. Why? Just why?

Stomach twisting, Brenda finally shoved the paper and its envelope in the garbage and left for a coffee break. A vending machine three floors down gave out a decent cup of iced coffee and Brenda had two of them before she ventured back to her cubicle. She fished the letter out of the trash and started a new file in her drawer, just in case.

Brenda spent the rest of the day trying to forget the letter. It was like forgetting there was a disgusting black parasite wiggling its tentacles in her filing cabinet. None of the insults were particularly on point or creative, why did that paper feel so disgusting?

Thursday, three more letters joined the parasite file in the morning and by afternoon the parasites extended to her email. These were printed, added to the drawer, and moved to a separate electronic file as well. Brenda contemplated finding Woshua and asking if his cleaning skills could remove the dirty _feeling_ that permeated her cubicle. She tried to ignore it, but later in the day the mail guy brought another nasty-gram and her email kept turning up fresh poison. It all seemed to feed the little beast of complicated emotions in her gut that she wanted to ignore, not encourage. “That’s _it_.” Brenda grumbled. She grabbed her file and went to Donna’s desk. When her supervisor looked up Brenda explained, “I’ve been getting some nasty stuff in my mail, and now my email. Do you know what I should do with this?”

“Let me see.” Brenda gave Donna the file.

Donna read each letter and email through, her lips pursing to fine lines. “There’s no explicit threats, but I will take these to the security office so they can start a file.”

“It’s no problem?” Brenda asked sheepishly.

Donna hesitated. “Honestly, security recently had to hire another guard specifically for handling issues like this. You’re not alone.”

 _You’re not alone_.

After a moment, Donna asked. “Brenda, is there anything else?”

Brenda had to shake herself out of the mild stupor of relief she’d felt. She wasn’t alone, good. She smiled. “No, I… that’s everything. Thank you.” She wasn’t alone, other people were dealing with this crap and somebody was assigned to helping them. Turning, Brenda thought her cubicle felt a little less tainted now.

Donna tapped the file Brenda had given her. Usually, hateful letters and emails that were reported to her were obviously single occurrences of spite from some bully who had never grown up. However, it looked like Brenda was in for something closer to what the higher executives’ secretaries filtered out. Brenda was no company executive. Donna decided to have a word with the guard in charge of the increased threats against company employees to personally ensure Brenda’s case wouldn’t fall by the wayside just because she wasn’t one of the bigwigs.


	8. Violated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brenda's troubles continue and she needs another hero. She calls for help. A true hero arrives.

Friday, Brenda followed Donna’s direction and delivered the second folder of hate mail directly to security.

The security office wasn’t the wall of televisions with a greasy pastrami sandwich on the controls she’d expected. It was a regular inner office space with desks and computers, most of the desks were unoccupied. Someone had painted a pretty mural of an open window on one wall.

Brenda hesitated at the door. She didn’t see Black and he was the only security guard she knew.

A woman in her late forties at one of the desks looked up. “Are you Brenda?” She asked.

“Yes?”

“Come on in!” The guard stood using a cane to balance with, then glanced at Brenda and switched the cane to her other side so they could shake hands despite Brenda’s cast. “Hello there, I’m Carter.” Her uniform name tag agreed with her. “Donna said to expect you. You have more letters?”

“Yes.” Brenda retrieved the file from where she’d tucked it between her sling and her chest. Fifteen letters and emails total had come in since yesterday.

Carter accepted these and placed them on her desk, then picked up a little silver whistle. She gave it a short puff, but Brenda didn’t hear anything. “Okay, we’ll get started processing these as soon as Doge gets back. He’s in charge of physical letters.” The whistle was set back on the desk while Carter retrieved a business card for Brenda. “Forward any other emails to me. I can work them more effectively that way. Bring the others in as convenient.”

“Alright. Thank you.” Brenda accepted the card and turned to leave the office, only to be barreled over by somebody running in. “AUGH!”

“AROO-ROO-ROO?”

Sharp pain shot out from Brenda’s wrist from the initial impact and again after the fall but something soft shielded her head when she and her assailant hit the floor -thin industrial carpet over bare concrete.

“Doge! Get off her!” Carter barked, alarmed. “She’s already hurt!”

The monster who’d crashed into Brenda whined and stood cautiously so not to jostle Brenda further, then offered her a paw to help stand. He was a dog type monster, passingly resembling a basset hound, wearing a security uniform. “My sincerest apologies, human. Most dreadful!” Brenda accepted the hand up and the dog easily pulled her to her feet. “So very sorry!” Doge insisted, patting her down as if she’d fallen into a pile of dirt rather than indoor carpet regularly patrolled by Woshua. “Are you hurt? Oh, of course you’re hurt! Have you any new hurts? Oh! I feel so contrite over this!”

“Doge…” Carter said patiently. Doge looked to her, paw stopping in mid-brush over Brenda’s hair. “What does one whistle mean?”

“One… one whistle…” The dog monster narrowed his eyes and contemplated this riddle deeply. “Whistle means come!”

“Almost.” Carter corrected. “One whistle means ‘walk come’. _Three_ whistles means ‘run come’.”

Doge looked positively stricken. “Oh. Oh dear. I’ve quite bungled it again.”

Carter sighed. “You’ll get it.” She assured him. Doge could only look hopeful that his future might include such mastery of whistle commands.

Brenda looked between the two of them. She had to ask. It was obligatory. “What does two whistles mean?”

“LUNCH!” Doge literally barked.

Carter had a patient smirk. “He’s got that one down.”

 

~*~*~

 

14 missed calls from unknown numbers. Blocked.

“T-G-I-F.” Brenda sighed as the bus reached her stop. The man next to her chortled, agreeing.

Brenda walked the last two blocks to her apartment building. The elevator was working this week and she was nearly due for her evening meds, so Brenda indulged by taking the squeaky contraption up to the third floor. Walking down the hall, she could hear her neighbors settling in after their own work shifts. It was comforting. At her own door, Brenda grabbed the handle and twisted.

It was locked.

Baffled, Brenda stared at the stainless-steel door handle like it had spoken. She _never_ had to unlock her own door. Kerry always left it unlocked or even cracked open. Brenda hadn’t had to use a key to get into the apartment since she’d moved in a couple years prior. After the initial moment of pure surprise, Brenda jumped to what seemed the most logical conclusion; she’d been the last person to use the front door. That meant Kerry hadn’t left for the day and hadn’t ordered delivery for a change.

If Kerry hadn’t ordered delivery, chances were she hadn’t eaten. That wasn’t like her. “Kerry?” Brenda hooked her purse on the wrist of her cast and clumsily dug for her keys. “Kerry? Are you all right in there?” She fumbled to get the door unlocked and pushed the door open. “Kerr- oh my god!”

She’d immediately looked to the couch to see if Kerry was there, but instead of her roommate lounging as usual, the couch was destroyed. Upholstery had been shredded and the cheap wooden frame splintered. Around the couch’s remains, the entire apartment was trashed. Shreds of cloth, shattered dishes, scraps that might have been the chair or a mattress. The television and the entertainment center had been smashed and there was spray paint on some of the walls.

Brenda backed out of the apartment, locked it, and called the police.

 

 

“Nice going, _Brenda_.”

Brenda looked up from her phone and frowned at Kerry. “What?”

Kerry rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “The whole place is smashed! My stuff is _ruined._ ” She sneered at Brenda. “One of your fans, no doubt.”

One of the police officers cautiously picking through the disaster of their apartment overheard. “Fans? Ma’am, what do you mean?”

Scoffing, Kerry jerked a thumb at Brenda. It was a simple gesture but somehow felt so hostile Brenda nearly flinched. “She’s been all over the news as some kind of monster-lover. That’s why this happened!”

“What… no.” That made no sense.

“Obviously yes. Can I go now? None of this stuff is worth keeping.” She hadn’t stepped into the apartment since arriving in response to Brenda’s text.

“Yes, ma’am.” The officer replied. “We have your contact information and will be in touch if we need to.”

“Whatever.” Kerry muttered and flounced off.

The officer turned to Brenda. “Ma’am? Any luck?”

Brenda felt her neck warming as she ran through her contacts. “Um… not yet… just a minute.” She called another number on her ‘friends’ group. The officer stepped back to give her some privacy, taking more pictures and having a word with their partner.

They’d been just kind of milling around for a while. Brenda had the rather embarrassing suspicion that they’d finished their investigation and were waiting for Brenda to find a safer place to stay. Over the last hour she’d plowed through most of her ‘friends’ list and heard an entire litany of excuses and hedging over why she couldn’t crash on somebody’s couch for a couple days. The experience had started to feel like an episode of the Twilight Zone until one guy was honest enough to say, “Hell no! Girl, trouble’s been following you like the plague lately!” The honesty was refreshing, actually. Jinxed or not, at least now she knew the reason for her ‘friends’ suddenly growing distant.

Brenda called the last number in her friends group. They’d just spent the last weekend together mall trawling. “Oh Brenda, sweetie. I’m so sorry to hear that! Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at…”

“Actually, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think I could crash on your couch for a couple days? It’s just until I can get the place cleaned up and the manager replaces the locks.”

“… Oh.” That hesitation was all too familiar. A couch was asking too much. “I’d love to, you know that, but my girlfriend wouldn’t understand. She gets jealous.”

Brenda pulled the phone away from her ear to glare at the caller ID picture of him and his boyfriend of two years. She didn’t bother responding, just hung up. Briefly, she scrolled again through the list of contacts. How in the world did she amass so many fair-weather friends?

She might be able to afford a couple nights at a hotel, but that wouldn’t leave much for replacing any of her stuff that had been destroyed. Hesitantly, chewing the inside of her cheek, Brenda looked at her other contacts group. Abby would have been her first choice from the start, but she was still at that wedding in India. Maybe another of her coworkers…

Jason was a no. Brenda didn’t even have to call, he’d been complaining about having his apartment fumigated all week and being forced to stay with a friend… which also ruled out David. Celeste was the fourth person in a three-person apartment. That ruled out her entire team. But there was a name on her contacts list Brenda was starting to think of as a friend… maybe…

Twenty minutes later Donna was running up the stairs of Brenda’s apartment building. She reached the third-floor landing and hurried to Brenda. “Are you alright? You didn’t walk in on the burglars, did you?” Brenda nodded, then shook her head. “Good.” Donna frowned pointedly at Brenda’s sling. “Pain medication. Have you taken any recently?” Again, Brenda shook her head. “Your purse?” Still with the head shaking. Adams Co had strict policies on how much prescription medication could be brought to the office and nobody in section 4 would violate those policies.

Donna brushed past Brenda and drew one of the officer’s attention. He and his partner searched Brenda’s apartment again before confirming there were no prescription medications to be found -they would be listed among the stolen items.

While the company policy on prescription medication was strict, Donna was prepared with over the counter medication. She gave Brenda 800mg of ibuprofen and a ceramic water bottle from out of her attaché case. After Brenda took the medication, she picked through the apartment under the police’s watchful eyes for anything salvageable that she might need over the weekend.

There was nothing. Her clothes were shredded and soaked in chemical cleaners. Her toiletries stomped, broken, or dumped into the tub with several gallons of water and her lockbox for important papers. Bed destroyed. Dresser smashed. Carpet torn up. Everything completely ruined. The Police officer asked her to keep an eye out for any valuables that might be missing but the only things that didn’t show up in pieces somewhere were her prescription medications bottles.

Even her French Press.

Stomped flat on the fire escape, glass littering the downstairs neighbor’s flower box.

Having done her part in the investigation by reporting nothing else of value missing, Brenda could lock her apartment door -for what little good it did- and leave with Donna.

They walked down the stairs together, Donna keeping a steadying hand on Brenda’s shoulder. “I have a guest bedroom in my apartment.” Donna told Brenda. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. Don’t worry about anything tonight. I’ll order take-out and you just focus on relaxing. What sounds good for dinner?” Donna noticed Brenda fiddling with her sling. She didn’t see how it was tangled or twisted to bother Brenda, but Donna helped her remove it anyway. Once Brenda was free of the sling, she held her cast to the side and used her good arm to pull Donna into a hug.

“Thank you. Again. Always. Thank you.” Brenda’s voice was sniffly and squeaky.

Donna returned the hug. After a minute she began gently rocking back and forth, soothing Brenda’s trembling. “My pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first story started after discovering Undertale and its beautiful fandom. When I first outlined this chapter, I had no idea how common the “someone breaks into/sets fire to human protagonist’s home” trope was in the Undertale fandom. In my defense; Brenda does not end up in a house filled with skeleton monsters and nobody falls in love with Brenda in this story. (At least, not as far as I’m concerned. If you ship it, who am I to stand in the way of OTP love?)  
> However, the typical scenario did give me a giggle. I’m picturing boss Papyrus and guard Black arriving in a Giftrot-drawn chariot taxi (driven by Red), both posing heroically on the roof as they come to yon damsel’s rescue! Said damsel is swept away from the distress of her burglarized apartment and driven into the city… where Papyrus and Black drop her off at a ritzy hotel she couldn’t possibly afford and remind her to be on time Monday.


	9. HANGOUT START!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild brother appears!

Brenda stared into the mug of instant coffee Donna had given her. “How do you even replace a birth certificate?” She asked.

Donna patted her shoulder comfortingly. “It’s not hard. You still have your wallet and photo ID. The rest is just a form and some time. Now, enough of that. We’ll take care of everything in the morning. Right now, you need to relax. Rest your arm.” She lifted her phone. “You never did answer my question. What kind of food do you want for dinner?”

Brenda considered. If she was going to be spoiled, and she certainly needed the comfort food, there were only two answers… and she didn’t want to be rude by telling Donna how terrible her coffee was so that left one answer. “I could go for some-” whatever she wanted was interrupted by a loud knock on the door of Donna’s apartment. Brenda shifted on the couch, putting her socked feet on the floor. “I’m sorry. Were you expecting someone?”

Donna set her phone down again. “Not anymore. Hold that thought.” She went to the door, leaning down to use the peephole. “Oh!” She hurried to open the door, looking somehow both regretful and happy. “Papyrus! I’m so sorry! Did you get my message? I have to cancel on you tonight.”

“NYEH-HEH-HEH! Worry not. I did receive your message and our date tonight is thoroughly canceled! However, though the Great Papyrus is not here for a date; these are still for you!” Papyrus Skeleton. Brenda’s hero from the parking garage, dressed in a crimson polo shirt and slacks. He offered a bouquet of red, long-stemmed roses to a delighted, and pink, Donna. “As you have cancelled our date, I have come for a ‘friends’ hangout night’ instead to help cheer your dear friend with my famous Friendship Spaghetti!” He held out a cloth shopping bag with a long loaf of bread sticking out the top. “Also, as this is most certainly not a date, I brought my lazy brother along to provide additional company and emotional support!” From behind the wall, Papyrus brought forth another grinning skeleton monster. Papyrus held his shorter brother by the jacket not much differently -or with any more visible effort- than he held the bag of groceries.

Apparently unbothered by being carried so, the new skeleton held up a hand. “Heya.” One of his pink slippers fell off his socked foot.

Donna held the roses close to her face as she struggled to contain her giggles, shoulders shaking. She turned to her guest. “Brenda, are you up for some extra company tonight? You’ll love his spaghetti.” Though her expression was hopeful, Donna managed to keep any pleading or cajoling from her voice.

Brenda definitely felt she needed the distraction from herself, and Italian sounded perfect. “Love some company.”

“NYEH-HEH-HEH!” Papyrus cackled as he stepped into the apartment. Both his brother and the grocery bag were set down so he could close and lock the door behind him -the brother reclaimed his slipper. The taller skeleton then lifted both bag and brother in the same manner as before. “I shall begin preparing my Friendship Spaghetti immediately!”

On his way to the kitchen, Papyrus stopped and deposited his brother on the couch, then reached inside the grocery bag and withdrew a small bouquet of purple hyacinth. “These are for you, new human friend. Because tonight; it is very important for you to smile.”

The flowers worked their magic, Brenda smiled. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She nearly cooed over the pretty sprays of star-shaped flowers.

“Nyeh-heh! You are very welcome!” Papyrus cackled, then continued into the kitchen.

Papyrus’s brother seemed contented to stay exactly in the slouched position he’d been dropped into. “So, flower you liking my brother?” He asked.

Brenda lifted her eyebrows, then shot Donna a mischievous look. “He’s great. I like him, but apparently not as well as my boss does.” Donna’s delicate pink blush darkened.

The skeleton snickered. “Yeah, you could say-”

“I’ll find us something to put these flowers in!” Donna said in a rush, interrupting the monster as she followed Papyrus into the kitchen.

Brenda could only wonder what that was about. The skeleton reached a hand over to Brenda. “I’m Sans, Sans the Skeleton.”

With one wrist still encased and slung, Brenda had to shake the back of the offered hand with her good one. “Brenda. Brenda the Human.”

Sans nodded what little he could with his jawbone nearly slouched to his sternum. “Good, now I think we’ve covered all our vases.”

It took Brenda a moment, but she got it. She toyed with how the word could be pronounced. “Vase that a pun?” Sans’ skeleton grin went a little wider and Brenda thought his eye lights twinkled.

“Et tu, Brenda?” Donna asked, returning from the kitchen with a small decorative vase.

“I couldn’t help myself.” Brenda apologized, less than sincerely.

Donna glared at Sans. “Don’t you dare corrupt Brenda. I have to work with her!”

Sans put his hands up defensively, grin never slipping. “Now, would I do that?”

“YES!” Donna was chorused by Papyrus in the kitchen.

“Heh.”

Donna took Brenda’s flowers and arranged them in the vase for her. “I swear; if you keep punning amok all evening, I’ll hang you out the window and _then_ we’ll be sans Sans the skeleton.” She threatened.

“Uh…” Sans tapped Brenda’s shoulder and urgently signaled her to keep quiet, eye lights trained on Donna with amusement. Brenda obeyed, silently watching as her supervisor gave the flowers a little fluff, then returned to the kitchen. When Brenda looked back to Sans, his grin was even larger than before. “What?”

“Your boss doesn’t know she does that sometimes.” Sans explained. He started to shake with restrained laughter, it made something under his jacket rattle. “Don’t say anything or she might stop.”

“Okay.” That was both interesting and confusing. Sans knew Donna, probably better than Brenda did. “You hang out often?”

“No. She hasn’t actually hung me out the window, yet.” Sans quipped. Brenda snickered and Sans settled back on the couch. “Paps brings her to hang out with our crowd sometimes.” He added.

“And they’re really… dating?”

He shrugged. “Yup. Crazy kids go dancing, play games, even hold hands.”

“Huh.” Brenda said neutrally. “I haven’t heard of humans and monsters dating before.”

“Not surprising.” Sans said. “Don’t know of any other mixed couples.”

“Huh.” Brenda didn’t know how to feel about that. It was like an emotional log jam. There was too much vying to be felt so nothing got through. “And they’ve been dating… two months?” She guessed.

“Yup. My bro nearly drove your _other_ boss out of his skull before Paps convinced Edgy-pants to give Donna his number. Took about four minutes.”

“Huh.” Brenda repeated.

Sans cocked one of the ridges of bone that made up the top of his eye socket, it was expressive enough to make up for the lack of eyebrows. “You always this articulate?”

“No. Sorry, I just…” Brenda pulled her knees up and retrieved her coffee mug from the table. It had gone cold. “Have… has anyone been giving them a hard time?”

“Not that I know of.”

Brenda nodded, carefully flexing the fingers of her bad arm against the padding of her cast. She still didn’t know how to feel about this. Laughter from the kitchen drew both of their attention. The sound made Sans relax a little further into the couch. If he kept that up the cushions were going to eat him alive.

Silence fell between the two of them. It wasn’t awkward, just quiet. Sans dozed, and Brenda took the opportunity to dump her instant coffee in the pot for Donna’s fern. Donna had the nice kind of an apartment where a fern didn’t look out of place or crowded. Brenda hoped the coffee wouldn’t kill it.

Sans snickered as Brenda casually returned to her seat.

Donna almost immediately came in with a full carafe of coffee and a condiment bottle of ketchup. Brenda mentally discarded any further concerns for the fern’s health as she thanked Donna. Sans took the bottle that was handed to him and put the end to his mouth without opening his eye sockets. Brenda braced herself for the prank fallout.

Almost immediately Sans sat up. “Hey! That’s not half bad.”

Donna had the same look of triumph as when section ratings came out with theirs inevitably at the top. “That’ll be ten g; he DID give me the recipe.”

Sans grunted in feigned displeasure. “Grillbz, you’re killing me here.” He grumbled, eying the ketchup bottle reproachfully. Finally, Sans shrugged and drank some more. “Meh, worth it.” Brenda giggled as much from surprise as amusement.

Soon, Papyrus announced the completion of his ‘Friendship Pasta!’ Brenda and Sans left the couch -Sans grunting like an old man as he slid off, Brenda detouring to pour half the coffee in the fern’s pot- and they went to the dining room table. “Looks good bro.” Sans said, taking a seat.

“Smells amazing.” Brenda added. She took the seat Donna pointed to as Papyrus set a heaping plate of pasta in front of her. Donna cut generous slices of garlic bread as Papyrus dished the entree and ensured everyone had enough. Brenda almost started worrying about what all these carbs might do to her but discarded the thought into the same place as her concerns for the fern’s health. It wasn’t like she had skinny jeans to fit into anymore. In fact, skinny jeans were stupid. Never again.

“Bone Appetit.” Donna declared. Sans and Brenda grinned. Papyrus adopted a look of longsuffering patience, but he didn’t say anything to stop it.

Brenda took a bite of pasta and closed her eyes, savoring. The fusilli was perfectly al dente. The sauce coated the pasta well and both just exploded with a fine balance of flavors. Herbs, cheeses, the savory acidity of tomato and… It was hard to place what else might be in the sauce, but it was excellent. Indescribably so. The more Brenda ate, the brighter, more hopeful, and -despite everything- more optimistic she felt. The throbbing in her wrist and bruises eased as well, though Brenda failed to notice that any more than she noticed “Friendship Spaghetti” had become “Friendship Pasta” or both Papyrus and Donna watching carefully to ensure Brenda could handle the food one-handed.

Everyone took a few minutes to curb hunger and savor the food, but conversation gradually picked up. Small talk was covered. Yes, the rain yesterday had been very pleasant. Things were going well at Section 4. Papyrus usually enjoyed his work as an Ambassador of Monsters, and Sans… “Brother, you never change.” Papyrus sighed.

“And you don’t want me to.” Sans asserted, wiping red sauce out of his eye sockets with a napkin.

“Don’t bet on it.” Papyrus retorted, taking the napkin from his brother and scrubbing more effectively at the mess.

Brenda was using her own napkin to try and suppress her laughter. “I’m not the least bit surprised you two get along.” Donna groaned, looking green.

“Oh no, I can’t do physical comedy.” Brenda insisted.

“Certainly not like that.” Donna shuddered.

Brenda giggled and took another bite of fusilli, humming contentedly. Her heaping plate was nearly empty, every bite still as good as the first. “Mmm. What kind of sauce is this?”

“Tomato-vegetable puree with three cheeses.” Papyrus declared proudly.

Before Brenda could ask the brand, Donna put in, “From scratch. Papyrus is an excellent cook.”

“Taught him everything I know.” Sans said, nodding sagely.

“ _Taught_ -!? Sans! You lied to me about my spaghetti for years! YEARS!” Papyrus began working into a proper rage. “I literally poisoned Frisk before anyone informed me my spaghetti might possibly be less than perfect!”

“And I dialed Poison Control for ya. You’re welcome.” If Papyrus had blood vessels, they would doubtlessly be popping out and fit to burst, but he glanced at Donna and managed to keep himself in check. Sans continued with, “And I gave ya Tori’s number so she could teach you the right way ta cook… and fire safety.”

Papyrus’s temper settled. “Yes, you did that. Thank you.” Slyly he added, “Perhaps now you can use that same number so Lady Toriel can teach _you_ to cook. Nyeh!”

Sans pressed his hand to his chest. “Bro, I’m hurt. Like, really. I run my own dining establishment.”

“You have a wooden hotdog stand set up in the park.” Papyrus addressed his brother but nodded to Brenda so she’d know the exposition was for her sake. “And your hotdog stand used to be my sentry station! Which you stole! You don’t even sell _real_ hotdogs! How is that worthy of the phrase ‘dining establishment’?”

“Check it.” Sans pulled a clunky flip phone out of his jacket pocket, pushed a couple buttons, and handed it to his brother. Papyrus’s eye sockets squinted at the screen. Brenda was wondering if his occasional squinting had anything to do with his being the only skeleton she’d met without eye lights when he closed his sockets completely and groaned.

“Sa-ans.” Papyrus whined, but he handed the phone to Donna. Whatever he saw, Donna picked up faster and tsked before passing the phone to Brenda.

‘hotdogs’ a rough wooden sign declared. Despite being hand painted, Brenda felt she almost recognized the lettering from the list of forbidden fonts in Adams Co’s employee policies. It didn’t make much sense why Papyrus and Donna had reacted like that until Brenda saw smaller handwriting in the corner. ‘est. 19xx’.

“Looks official to me. His place is established.” Brenda confirmed, returning the phone to its rightful owner.

Donna pointed at her, glaring. “No.” she scolded. “I’ve seen your work, you’re capable of much higher quality than this.” Papyrus hadn’t seen the mischief Brenda sometimes stirred up at work, but he nodded agreement with his date mate anyway.

Brenda feigned innocent thoughtfulness. “Maybe I should swing by and check the place out. You know, next time you plan to work through lunch.”

Papyrus’s gasp was loud and prolonged. “You work through lunch?” He demanded, as if discovering Donna drowned puppies and laughed as she stole candy from cancer kids. Donna already had her hands up trying to placate the skeleton.

Brenda went ahead and shoved her boss the rest of the way under the bus. “Regularly.”

“Not… not that regularly.” Donna’s defense was feeble.

“At least twice a week.”

“Donna!” Papyrus gasped again.

Brenda snagged another slice of garlic bread and sat back to enjoy the show. Sans was less entertained. He took a large swig of ketchup and grimaced, bracing himself.

“You know how important it is to eat a nourishing meal during the day!”

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry.”

“It is important you take care of yourself!” Papyrus took one of Donna’s hands. “Your health is very important to me. Please, don’t skip any more meals. The Great Papyrus would be more than pleased to make lunches for you, if your work is too demanding.”

“Papyrus… you work so hard already. I’ll be more careful. Don’t push yourself for me.”

“For you? I would push myself to the ends of the earth.”

“Oh Papyrus.”

Brenda finally saw her mistake as Papyrus and Donna devolved into sweet talk, goo-goo eyes, and sticky sweet flirtations punctured by soft cackles and giggles.

Sans grabbed the rest of his ketchup and slid out of his chair. “This is your fault.” He groaned, shooting a glare at Brenda.

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” Brenda chanted.

Appetites mostly sated by the delicious food and partially killed off, they retreated to the living room. Their new distance to cut the lovey-dovey whisperings, but soft laughter still followed them as they settled into their previous spots on the couch. “This is _so_ your fault.” Sans accused again, clearly preparing for a nap in self-defense.

“And I am _so,_ so very sorry!” Brenda repeated, but the skeleton’s eyes were already shut.

Sans’ nap was short lived. He only slept a few minutes before taking pity on Brenda for her crippling handicap of being unable to nap on command. The skeleton pushed off the couch and retrieved a chessboard from the entertainment center. “You play?” He offered, setting the board on the coffee table.

“Badly.” Brenda replied, scooting forward to set up the pieces. Sans trounced Brenda three times before he delivered the coup de grace by describing how he and Papyrus only learned the game in the last year or so. Brenda’s pride was still hemorrhaging when Papyrus and Donna finally joined them. The group switched from chess to Chinese Checkers. Twice, Brenda was swept off the board long before the other three with Sans winning the first match and Papyrus the second. They had pity on Brenda and switched to a pure luck game -Sorry. Donna finished first; Brenda’s pieces were all stuck at Start. Admitting defeat, they cleaned up the games and switched to a movie.

Donna popped a DVD in before settling herself on the couch between Brenda and Papyrus. Brenda had never seen the film before and was rapidly absorbed into the story. Sans took the easy chair and promptly closed his eye sockets. He punctuated particularly good scenes with a little snore.

Papyrus appeared to be enjoying the movie, but little twitches of his skull would have given anyone paying attention warning that his attention wasn’t fully on the television screen. The eager young investigative reporter was just starting to piece together citizen Kane’s life when Papyrus pulled the ‘oldest trick in the book’. He casually stretched his long arms high overhead, then relaxed from his stretch and allowed one arm to drape over Donna’s shoulders. Kane had opened his first newspaper when Papyrus moved to the next stage of his scheme. Ever so gently and completely weightless, he rested the phalanges of his extended arm on Brenda’s shoulder. Brenda was too engrossed in the film to notice a flicker of green light in her periphery.

Donna smothered a giggle as Brenda started listing sideways, falling asleep with the help of powerful healing magic. Papyrus paused the movie and stood. He carefully lifted Brenda without waking her and carried her into the guest bedroom. A few minutes later he returned to the couch. Without bothering with stealth this time, he settled his arm over Donna’s shoulders. She snuggled close before restarting the film.

Sans opened one eye socket, the light inside bright with affection. “You’re so cool, Papyrus.”

“Nyeh-heh!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also didn't realize that the "I was victimized horribly earlier but this is the best day of my life!" trope was also common in the fandom, but it might be my favorite so there you go.


	10. Grillbys'

Brenda stood in the entryway of Donna’s apartment, shaking with fear, exhaustion, and the early signs of what was surely whiplash. “What just happened?”

“A highly productive day!” Donna pronounced, cheerfully carrying a large bag from her favorite home store into the kitchen.

Brenda checked her purse for clues. She found a page from Donna’s legal pad with a long list of tasks and items all scratched off save for a note at the bottom reminding Brenda to go to the Social Security Office Tuesday morning to replace her card. There were fuzzy memories of doing everything on the list, and receipts for all the items, but how had they managed to get all that done in a single day? Was it even possible to travel the city so much on a Saturday? What black hole had they fallen into?

“Let’s get those put away.” Donna returned from the kitchen and started gathering bags. Brenda snapped out of her confusion and scooped as many of the shopping bags as she could one handed, carrying them to the guest bedroom. With Donna’s expert navigation between retail and thrift, Brenda now had everything she needed to survive the week without looking or smelling homeless and her savings hadn’t been entirely demolished.

What’s more, Donna had insisted on paying for a French press, grinder, and beans. She didn’t know how to use these. The fact that she’d obviously spent so much solely for Brenda’s sake stung her pride and caused some guilt. The feeling grew worse when she realized Donna must have noticed her fern looking particularly caffeinated today. But… good coffee healed far more severe injuries than guilt and pride.

Donna was also a personal surprise. Brenda hadn’t realized that outside of work her boss was usually so energetic, cheerful, and chatty. “Don’t mind making a mess or not, I like tidy but I’m not nutty about it. Papyrus is always complaining about Sans leaving his sock collection around -isn’t that cute? Let me know if there’s anything else we missed today. Oh! If you’re interested, Grillby’s has a DJ visiting from LA with live music tonight. Blooky, I think.”

“Uh, Grill-Bee’s?” Brenda asked. The name sounded familiar.

Donna dropped the last of the shopping bags in the closet and turned to Brenda, surprised. “You haven’t been to Grillby’s?”

“No?”

“Do you like burgers?”

“Yes?”

Donna smiled. “Then I know what we’re having for dinner tonight!” She snagged a bag back out of the closet and tossed it to Brenda, who fumbled and managed to catch the bag between her good hand and her cast. “Try this on. Do you mind if I call Papyrus?”

“I’m assuming you mean your boyfriend and not our boss.”

“Oh hush. We have three Emma’s in our section. You can survive multiple Papyruses.”

“Papyri?”

“You!” Donna grabbed a decorative pillow from the bed and bopped Brenda on the head. “Keep it up, see if I don’t call in a blind date for you!”

“Don’t you dare!” The threat left Brenda genuinely aghast.

Donna only smirked as she left the room.

Brenda’s horror softened into a smile. Bantering with Donna like this still felt new, but kind of nice. She carefully opened the bag Donna had tossed at her. It was a blouse she’d bought for work, but the sleeves could be pulled down for an off-the-shoulder look good enough for an evening out and she wouldn’t have to expose her bruises: which were now ‘lovely’ shades of mottled brown with green and yellow borders.

When she’d finished changing and tidying up, Brenda met Donna in the living room and gaped. “Holy crap!”

Donna frowned and touched her hair, then looked down at her clothes. “Is something the matter?”

Usually Donna wore pantsuits cut to defeminize and a militant bun to complete the look. Business professional down to her neutral flats. But dressed for a night out, Donna Ricci was a tall, Mediterranean beauty who could draw the most blasé photographer’s eye. “Since when the hell were you gorgeous?” Brenda demanded, piqued.  Donna remained befuddled and concerned, then snorted a soft laugh, one hand fluffing her mane of black curls. The worst part of it was Donna obviously wasn’t trying. It was just a touch of makeup, a nice blouse, a simple skirt, modest heels on dancing shoes.

Brenda was developing a sneaking suspicion that maybe, _maybe_ her boss wasn’t that much older than she was. Further investigation was required.

They caught a cab to the city center and a tower not too far from Lee Tower. The elevator took them to a floor marked by a yellow label with red print. ‘Grillby’s.’ Brenda eyed their reflection in the silver walls of the elevator car. Yep. Still the average, injured young woman next to the runway model. It really wasn’t a body image issue or anything, Donna glowed. “So, what should I be expecting?”

“Great drinks, great music, great atmosphere, best burgers, and the best place in town for dancing!” Donna promised. “Papyrus claims he hates it because the food is greasy, but he likes to dance and won’t admit he’s addicted to the milkshakes.” The elevator doors opened. Donna grabbed Brenda’s good hand, excitedly pulling her down the hall to a set of double doors with sturdy brass handles.

Grillby’s was comfortably decorated in warm colors and dark stained, high polished woods with lots of brass trim. The lights were dim, which had the multi-faceted benefits of creating atmosphere, allowing patrons to enjoy the view of the city through the windows, and emphasizing the half dozen fire monsters working the place. The walls were lined with booths and a few tables were scattered near, but between the seating and the bar was a wide space of dance floor with only a few monsters out practicing their steps to pleasant background music. Aside from the brightly flickering staff, there were monsters _everywhere._ There were a few humans scattered about, but they would have been easy to miss.

“Ms. Donna! Welcome back! You brought a friend!” A feminine fire monster burning a steady green greeted them shortly after they walked in.

“Yes. Fuku, this is Brenda. Brenda, this is Fuku; she starts at Calloway Community in the fall.”

“Oh, congratulations.” Brenda said.

“Thank you, nice to meet ya.” Fuku replied. Her head tilted as she took note of Brenda’s sling. The long, wispy flames rising from the top of her head followed the gesture, giving the effect of flaming hair. “Grill side today?” She offered.

Brenda looked to Donna for an explanation. “The grill is quieter.” Donna pointed to a hall that led to a more brightly lit area. “For some reason the jukebox is always broken. It’s smaller with fewer people. Same food is served on both sides, though there’s more emphasis on drinks this side.”

“But you said you wanted to dance.”

“Only if you’re not too tired. You did nearly get killed Monday… remember?”

Brenda remembered. She just didn’t feel like it. Her bruises didn’t feel nearly as bad as they had the day before, and her arm only itched. She was tired, but only as tired as could be expected after spending the day caught up in Hurricane Donna’s shopping mission. What’s more, Donna was wearing dancing shoes. Even if Brenda had any reservations, she probably would have tamped them down anyway. Brenda smirked. “Thanks, mom.” she said, then addressed Fuku. “Dancing Queen and I will stay bar side.”

“Alrighty then! Come with me!” Fuku led them to some stools at the far end of the bar from the elevator. It was close to a small raised stage where equipment was set up, but nobody appeared to be working or playing despite the jazzy techno beat filling the air. The green fire monster drew Brenda’s attention to the menus on the counter, which were built in as part of the countertop rather than taped down. “Take your time deciding. Heats or Magma will take your orders when you’re ready.” She leaned a little closer to Donna. “Will _Papyrus_ be joining you tonight?”

The young fire monster’s flames close to Donna’s face emphasized the pink blush that leapt to the human’s face before she giggled. “Stop that! Yes, he said he’ll come.”

“I should hope so.” Fuku tittered before skipping off to check on patrons at the booths.

Brenda glanced around at where they’d been seated. Right next to the stage and not far from a door behind the bar marked ‘Fire Entry’ that was giving off the delightful smells of cooking food. It looked to her like choice seating. “You two seem to know each other well.” Brenda ventured.

Donna waved off any suggestions. “I’ve been coming here pretty often since they opened.” She faltered in her nonchalance when she saw Brenda glancing at the stage again. “A-and I might be getting some special treatment because Papyrus and Sans are old friends of one of the owners?”

“Ooh, I’m on the town with a real big shot. I knew I was under dressed.” Brenda pressed a hand to her forehead in mock distress.

“Cut that out.” Donna insisted, giving Brenda a gentle shove as her blush darkened. “Pick something to eat. Trust me on this; get just one entrée. They’re really filling.” They took a minute to read through the menu. Oddly, Fries were listed under the entrees separate from the burgers. Brenda agreed to ere on the side of Donna’s judgement and just get a burger. Donna waved down a small fire monster, very small, who ran right over the top of the bar.

“Do you remember my name?” He asked, recognizing Donna.

“How could I forget?” Donna assured him.

“Hee! You got me this time!” He crackled before taking their orders.

After he’d hopped down from the bar and run through the Fire Entrance, Donna leaned over to Brenda and in a loud whisper said, “I can’t tell the difference between Heats and his cousin, Magma, but they never ask me to say their name.” Brenda snickered.

Their burgs came out fast, steaming hot, and huge. The two plates of food combined were larger than the fire monster easily carrying them. Brenda’s burg was cut in quarters with small metal skewers holding each quarter together, making the burger manageable with one hand. Donna’s burg was neither cut nor skewered, but it did come with a little cup of marinara sauce so hot Brenda could smell the spice.

Even cut, Brenda had to be careful to manage her burger one-handed, but the flavor was so worth the effort. The burger was moist and lightly spiced, though it didn’t taste like beef. It was topped with a house sauce and pickled vegetables that were amazing together, and even the bun was delicious. With each bite, the warmth of the burger radiated to every part of Brenda’s body, making her feel welcome and calm.

While they ate, the music picked up the beat and more monsters moved onto the floor to dance in earnest. Brenda barely swallowed the last of her burger before Donna was dragging her along to join. They were the only humans dancing, but some of the monsters cheered them on without stopping their own dancing. When Brenda’s cast threw her off balance a friendly paw caught her and gave her a quick spin before sending her -laughing- back to Donna.

After a couple songs Brenda felt herself growing winded. Before she could beg off the next dance, someone tapped her shoulder. “May I cut in, human friend?” Papyrus asked.

Brenda was more than willing to take a break. “Be my guest!” She panted, making her way back to the bar. She perused the menu again and ordered a drink, then turned to watch Papyrus and Donna.

They were good, easily the best on the floor. The other couples and singles backed up, giving them room and appreciating their skill. Coincidentally -or not coincidence- the tempo of the music picked up. Sometimes Brenda looked to the stage and thought she saw a set of headphones where the DJ would be, but no sooner did she look than the impression vanished. Mostly, Brenda kept her attention on the dance floor. Papyrus was in work clothes; slacks, dress shirt, vest. His jacket and tie were neatly folded on one of the stools next to Brenda. He clearly delighted to have Donna in his arms and the two of them absolutely shown.

When the song ended, Papyrus led Donna back to the bar and the two placed orders for their ‘usual’ with the small fire monster walking briskly past. Donna took her seat, but Papyrus offered his hand to Brenda. “May I have this dance, my friend?”

Brenda giggled. “Sure.”

They danced to a song that sounded like the favored lovechild of the Monster Mash and Tron Legacy. Brenda was constantly tripping over her own feet or getting thrown off by her sling and cast, but Papyrus was patient and seemed to be genuinely having fun while Donna cheered them on. When the song ended, they returned to the bar so Papyrus could enjoy his milkshake with Donna. Brenda noticed milkshakes were listed as an Entrée menu item.

The hashed over their days while sipping cool drinks. Papyrus had been busy with a dispute between the royal Dreemurrs, which was a fairly regular occurrence. Donna bragged about having such a ‘fun’ shopping day with Brenda. “Fun?” Was Brenda’s only interjection. “We ran over the entire city today!”

“Sounds like a marvelously productive day!” Papyrus congratulated them.

“Good heavens, they’re made for each other.” Brenda groaned, which set Donna giggling into her ginger ale.

After they’d rested, Papyrus again spun Donna onto the dance floor. The tall skeleton danced with a controlled, fluid grace that reminded Brenda of Latin Dance. He looked good doing it and was a natural at making his partner look just as good, easy enough with Donna. Donna’s feet moved with a liveliness that betrayed lessons in her past -tap at least- and she matched Papyrus step for step.

Fuku came behind the bar to refresh drinks and replace Papyrus’s shake. “Don’t they make the cutest couple?” She sighed, releasing a light scent like incense.

“They do. Really cute.” Brenda agreed. She liked seeing them together, but the logjam of emotions on the matter still hadn’t completely cleared. She was happy for her boss… but also worried?

Neither noticed how the lighting shifted until someone made a sound like logs falling apart on the bonfire. Fuku jumped. “Sorry! Back to work!” The young fire elemental skipped off. A tall fire monster, yellow-orange and dressed as classy as Brenda had seen anyone behind a bar dress, watched Fuku dart away. The flames around his spectacles tightened around the glass, resembling a squint, but his expression softened when he nodded politely to Brenda, then watched Papyrus and Donna dancing for a moment before returning to the Fire Entrance.

Donna and Papyrus swung by, just long enough to say, “That was Mr. Grillby himself!”

“Grillby prefers to stay on the grill side!” And then the couple spun away, never missing the beat.

A few more songs later, Donna insisted on dancing with Brenda again. “No! I like watching! You guys are amazing!”

“NYEH-HEH-HEH! The Great Papyrus and sweet Donna are excellent dancers, it is true.” Papyrus agreed, then gently prodded Brenda off her stool. Gentle or not, it was hard to resist the prodding of such thin, pointy finger bones. “But you are friends and should have fun together.”

Once the ladies were on the dance floor and out of earshot, Donna said, “Remember what I said about entrée’s? Give it a minute, then look.” Brenda nodded obediently.

They danced as best they could with Brenda still as clumsy and off kilter. When she did turn to look at Papyrus halfway through the song, he was busy drinking his second milkshake with his feet hooked behind the stool and so obviously contented and -despite his size- so adorably cute that Brenda had to laugh some more. “He’s cheating on you with a dessert!” She warned Donna.

“Grillby’s milkshakes bring all the boys to the bar.” Donna quipped. “I can’t compete with that sweet, dairy vanilla goodness!” She bemoaned her, pretending to swoon.

The swoon couldn’t have come at a worse time for Brenda, who could only struggle to hold her up. “Donna! Donna, you’re bigger than me and I only have one hand! Donna!” Donna ended up on the floor before she dropped the act and gracefully leapt back to her feet so they could finish out the song. When they returned to the bar, Papyrus’s shake was gone and there were sparkles of light in his eye sockets… not eye lights, just sparkles.

“Sugar rush.” Donna gleefully warned Brenda.

“DONNA, MY AMAZING DATEMATE! LET US CONTINUE DANCING THE NIGHT AWAY! PARDON ME, NEW HUMAN FRIEND!” He grabbed Brenda’s good hand and skillfully spun her back into her seat, then seized Donna about the waist and tossed her in the air -squealing in delight- before catching her and spinning her onto the dance floor. The not-always-there DJ’s headphone’s bobbed and the music exploded, obviously taking the skeleton’s queue.

“Holy Toledo.” Brenda murmured as Papyrus and Donna proceeded to destroy the dance floor. The other dancers gave up entirely and circled around, clapping and cheering as the couple cranked it up with lifts, swings, and the hottest footwork of the night. Brenda joined the cheering, giving a shout whenever Donna left the floor and whistling as they went into rapid fire stepping. Brenda paused her very vocal support of the two when she caught sight of a familiar jacket and was again laughing when she confirmed that, yes, Sans was quietly standing nearby and enjoying the show his brother was putting on. After a moment he glanced at Brenda, shrugging and holding his hands up helplessly before turning back to watch Papyrus easily toss Donna back in the air and letting her spin nearly to the floor before catching her. Delighted, Donna whooped. The cheers around them increased before Papyrus drew her back to her feet and away they went again.

The song swelled to a close and Papyrus spun Donna out again, then pulled her back and swept her into his arms. Donna leapt into the movement and planted a kiss on the side of his skull with the last note of the song, causing poor Papyrus to flush a brilliant orange that glowed in the dimly lit bar.

Brenda stiffened, glancing around nervously. Everyone in the bar had been watching, and Brenda could see at least one of the other humans doing the same crowd scan she was doing. In that moment the cheering had subsided, and Brenda felt her heart skip a beat. Both picked up again and the crowd closed in to congratulate the two on their performance while Papyrus set Donna on her feet again, clearly short of breath but glowing with happiness and exertion. Brenda took a breath of her own, releasing it carefully, and slowly relaxed.

She glanced over to where Sans had been earlier, but he was already gone.

Donna was still catching her breath and Papyrus still a little orange in the face when there came a loud, “NGYAH! THAT WAS SO COOL!” The crowd parted to allow a tall blue fish monster with long crimson hair through to greet Papyrus with loud slaps on the shoulders before they headed back to the bar. A much smaller yellow reptile monster meekly followed. Donna fell into step with her, already acquainted.

“Brenda!” Donna set to the introductions. “This is Undyne, Papyrus’s best friend and one of my running buddies.” Brenda could faintly remember something about Donna going running that morning… in the wee hours… when sane people slept.

“Hey! Bridge lady!” Undyne hooted. “How’s the arm?”

“It’s healing. Nice seeing you again.” Brenda said, offering her good hand. Undyne gave her the matching hand to shake firmly.

“This is my girlfriend, Alphys. Hey, Alphys! This is the lady we called you about, with the freaky gate?” Alphys… the name sounded, and the monster looked familiar, but this one had two good eyes, was shorter, and probably couldn’t lift anything heavier than a book, much less an adult human plummeting toward traffic.

Alphys’s claws fiddled with the material of her dress as she stood beside Undyne. Nervously adjusting her glasses, she said. “Y-yes. Nice to m-meet you.” Her eyes flickered to Donna before adding. “Ms. b-Brenda. I’m sorry but we still d-don’t know why the gate f-fell open like that.” Brenda waved it off, she really didn’t want to hear about that blasted gate or think about that awful morning.

“Okay losers! Enough shop talk! SPARKY! Another round! WE PARTY ‘TILL THE SUN COMES UP!”

“D’oh! You forgot my name! I’ll remember this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Party on, my friends. Have fun, drink responsibly, don't give Papyrus a third milkshake.


	11. Weekly News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself; Time Skips are coming... small ones.

Grillby’s last call for drinks went out at two. Timely, because Undyne wouldn’t have lasted much longer. “Come on Grillbz!” Undyne begged, even though the bartender wasn’t in attendance. “Just this once? We know how you keep the bar. You wouldn’t even need to-” She started tilting.

“Oh no!” Alphys, Donna, and Papyrus hurried to catch the drunken fish monster before she keeled over. Alphys was too short to help the situation much, so Donna levied her up with Papyrus’s help.

“I’ll call a cab.” Brenda said, pulling her phone from her sling -which made a rather convenient purse.

“Thank you, Brenda. That’s very helpful.” Alphys said. Her stutter vanished after the second round, but she was fine otherwise.

“I’ll help you get her downstairs.” Donna told Alphys. “Papyrus? You want to see if Sans is in the grill before leaving?”

“Yes, I certainly would.” Papyrus said.

“Um…” Donna hesitated, Undyne draped over her shoulders. She looked to Brenda, flicking her head to Papyrus.

Brenda snorted, “I’ll watch your beau.” She promised. “Beat off anyone who flirts with him with my cast.” The other line picked up and she focused on requesting a taxi.

 “I’ll fight everyone!” Undyne promised. Whoever wanted to fight would have to wait until she could stand on her own.

Donna giggled. “We’ll see you downstairs.” Brenda nodded to show she’d heard.

“Thank you, Donna.” Alphys said, explaining as they left the bar, “She doesn’t usually drink so much but…”

Papyrus politely waited until Brenda had secured the cab, then led the way over to the Grill side of Grillby’s. It was situated on the opposite side of the kitchen and as Donna had said earlier; it was much quieter, the bar side music completely unheard. A jukebox with a shattered face sat in the corner and the overall space was much smaller and cozier than the bar side. It felt worn, too. While the bar side had been sleek and polished, there was a comfortably aged feel to the grill side. It must have been a bar before the monsters were freed, and just not updated like the other side.

Grillby himself was cleaning glasses when Papyrus and Brenda walked in. He hissed, but not as a threat. A bird monster nursing a drink said, “Your brother was here, Papyrus, but he went home hours ago.”

“Ah. Very good.” Papyrus said. “Then I shall follow him. Good evening.”

“Night ‘pyrus.” A bunny monster at one of the booths slurred.

They took the next elevator to the lobby. On the way down, Papyrus gave a huge yawn. He covered it politely with his hand, but that didn’t stop Brenda from noticing just how far his jaw cracked open. It was a little unsettling.

“Oh! I am very sorry, my friend. Rude of me.” Papyrus said as Brenda caught the yawn.

“No…” She had to yawn a second time. “’ts fine. We’re both tired. Long night.” She flexed her fingers in her cast, then adjusted her sling. Papyrus noticed her fussing

“Is your arm causing you pain?” He worried as the elevator opened and they stepped into the expansive tower lobby.

“No, it doesn’t hurt right now.” Donna ran a finger between the canvas strap and her skin. “The sling’s just chaffing a little. I shouldn’t have worn this shirt like this.”

“Allow me to help.” Papyrus said charitably. He lifted the strap of Donna’s sling and she pulled one sleeve up but could barely reach the other on her own. Papyrus considered her predicament with a thoughtful hum. “May I?” He offered, reaching meaningfully toward the second sleeve.

“Please.” A couple short tugs and Brenda’s shoulder was covered. Papyrus carefully settled the strap of the sling back into place.

“Human skin is so delicate.” Papyrus tutted. “You should cover it so as to protect it.”

Brenda couldn’t help but smile at the skeleton’s mothering. “Are you telling me my clothes are too revealing?”

“Yes. However, my Donna was exposing more of her skin, so I can hardly lecture you about it.” Brenda’s grin grew large, her eyes shining. Papyrus frowned and his eye sockets narrowed suspiciously. “Why do you look like my brother when he is about to make an especially horrible pun?”

“You said ‘my Donna’ just then!” Brenda crowed. “That is so adorable!”

Again, Papyrus started to turn orange. “NYEH!” He straightened and began marching toward the front of the lobby with an unnaturally long gait, and at a speed that didn’t seem to match his steps. “The taxi may be here by now! We should be going!” Brenda had to jog to keep up with them.

Outside, Undyne was trying to puke in the gutter while Alphys explained to her in exact detail why monsters couldn’t vomit. Undyne was taking this as a challenge. Donna stood nearby in case Undyne needed support again. When Papyrus came out with his skull still orange and Brenda followed with her grin still firmly in place. Donna shot Brenda a questioning look.

“It’s official! I ship you guys!” Brenda announced.

“I KNOW! RIGHT?” Alphys squealed, startling Undyne and setting off a scramble to catch the fish monster before she fell into the street.

~*~*~

“This is good.” Donna complimented. “Very good!”

Brenda accepted her travel mug back with a smirk. “Now will you let me trash that instant junk?”

Donna’s expression hardened. “No.”

“Ugh!” Brenda let her head flop back in the taxi seat. A different taxi than the one that had carried everyone home several hours ago. “Come on, Donna! You lectured me for -like- an hour yesterday on eating healthy! Why do you still drink that fake crystal stuff?”

“The caffeine is real.”

“Three days withdrawal and you’ll be fine.”

“No. Don’t mess with my caffeine.”

“Donna, you can do so much better than that stuff! I can teach you how to use the French press and-”

“Don’t mess with my caffeine.”

“Please! Just-”

The cab driver cleared his throat loudly. They’d been idling outside Brenda’s apartment building for a few minutes and while he didn’t mind the extra money, the argument was beginning to wear on his nerves and his own coffee cup was empty. Donna quickly paid and the two women climbed out of the taxi and started up toward Brenda’s apartment. “You don’t have to help me.” Brenda insisted. “I basically just need to trash everything and start over.” She held up the heavy-duty trash bags she’d brought.

Donna eyed the bags disdainfully. “No, I’m coming with you. It’ll go faster if you have three hands than one, after all.”

“Ha. Ha.” Brenda intoned humorlessly. Her fingers flexed against her cast, but there was no accompanying twinge of pain or itching from the shattered bone in her wrist. She wondered if it was too soon to try using the fingers to hold the trash bags or something.

They took the stairs to the third floor. One of Brenda’s neighbors was watching television, but the rest of the apartments were silent. Typical Sunday morning. Everything seemed normal until they came to Brenda’s apartment. A paper had been stapled to the door.

“The police didn’t leave that.” Donna noted.

Brenda grabbed the bottom of the paper and read. “It says the apartment is closed for the investigation.” She summarized, then looked to Donna. “I thought the police were done with this.”

Donna looked the paper over. “Oh. No, it’s not the police, this is for an insurance investigation.” She tapped the heading.

“Insurance investigation?” Brenda parroted.

“Yes. They’re making sure your renter’s insurance claim is valid.” Donna sounded pleased. Brenda remained confused. “They have to investigate to make sure you didn’t destroy your own place for the money.” Brenda remained confused. “You filed a claim, didn’t you?”

“Renter’s insurance?”

Donna was bemused. “Well, of course. You _have_ renter’s insurance, right?”

“No-o.” Brenda replied slowly.

“Well, you should. Your roommate clearly does.”

Brenda looked the paper over again, frowning. “I guess.” She took out her phone, ignoring several missed calls from unknown numbers, and opened the internet browser to search ‘Shiloh Insurance and Bonds’. The website looked legitimate. Brenda sent a quick email asking for more information, left her personal email address, then stuffed her phone back in her sling.

“You should have brought a purse.” Donna nagged gently.

“Yes mom.” Brenda snarked.

“I’m not wholly opposed to violence, you know.”

“Uh-huh.” Brenda took a deep breath and asked more seriously. “Um, Donna?”

Donna interrupted. “Don’t you dare ask me if you can stay longer at my place. I already told you; my home is yours as long as you want it.”

Brenda sagged, grateful. “Thanks.”

Donna brushed her gratitude off modestly. “Come on. I’ll make some chocolate popcorn, you make some more coffee, and we’ll spend the rest of the day watching good movies. How does that sound?”

~*~*~

Monday, Donna’s cheerful, affectionate weekend demeaner vanished. She strode through their section belting out; “NINE FIFTEEN! YOU’VE USED FIFTEEN MINUTES OF COMPANY TIME FOR LOLLYGAGGING!”

Brenda still compulsively obeyed, scooting into her cubicle and setting to work before she was seen gossiping with Emma B. She sat correctly today. Her bruises were still dark and stiffened up sometimes, they hadn’t pained her all weekend. Pain-free, she quickly prioritized her tasks for the day, then sorted her emails. She received a form email in her personal email account from Shiloh Insurance assuring her that the law required all investigations to conclude within two weeks. That was good. She received her first hate-letter email in her personal email account. That was bad. Brenda forwarded it to Carter without letting it bother her… too much.

She worked diligently, keeping up with her usual pace and challenging herself to use her cast hand as little as possible, though it was feeling well enough Brenda suspected she could do a little typing without causing any harm. Lunch came and went, everyone mostly silent and agreeing they missed Abby. The mail came. Brenda set aside the nasty letters to take to security on another day and was hardly bothered by them, such were her lifted spirits.

That evening, Donna again dropped her work persona, giggling as she tried to find ways to let Brenda help cook dinner without destroying the kitchen and settling for having Brenda stir a pot and make coffee. Donna was sure that -with time- she could teach Brenda to cook. Brenda was still sure that she could train Donna out of using instant crystals -with time.

They both received texted pictures from “allcalls50g” -Sans, though Brenda had never given him her number. The first picture was of Grand Central Station in New York City. The background was interesting, but the focus was on an enraged Papyrus chasing a white dog, the dog dragging a rolling suitcase. The second picture was also Grand Central Station from exactly the same angle, but the white dog was now dragging an enraged Papyrus in the opposite direction.

~*~*~

Tuesday, the guard Black strode through the section, noting the missing persons and checked with Donna.

“Section Supervisor! Three of your usually occupied cubicles are empty. Why?”

“Greg is on paternity leave, Abby has one more week of vacation, and Brenda’s at the Social Security office.” Donna told him. It was unusual for a guard to take such a specific interest in missing workers, but Donna was ever increasingly impressed with Black. The short skeleton monster talked like he believed himself the joint incarnation of all the Greek Gods, but his competence and effort would have spoken for itself even if he didn’t.

With all the insanity that had been going on since the new hiring policy was established, it was nice to have a Guard with a capital ‘G’ at the security office’s helm.

 

Wednesday Brenda received an unsolicited but welcome multi-media text from Carter in security; Doge had fallen asleep under his desk. Brenda set the picture as her phone’s wallpaper.

 

Thursday, Donna giggled in the middle of the workday.

Heads popped up and out of cubicles around the entire office, which drew the boss out of his office. “IS THERE AN IMPORTANT REASON FOR THIS … TOMFOOLERY AND BOONDOGGLING?” Papyrus demanded. Heads instantly vanished back into their cubicles and a pointed mass typing resumed. All but Brenda remained confused as to the source of the noise -which couldn’t possibly have come from Donna Ricci.

Brenda knew better. Donna only pinked like that for one skeleton and it wasn’t their boss.

 

The quiet week disguised a stealthy engagement in mischief. Friday marked the culmination of the plan to kick Donna out of her own apartment.

“You sure you don’t want us to stick around or something? We both really had fun last week. Really.” Donna asked yet again, shifting uncomfortably in front of her vanity mirror.

“H-yoo cahnshelled a tate fer me.” Brenda insisted, whistling around the bobby pins in her teeth. “tu-nihht yer going owd. Muffy muffy roma-hic hit.” Her argument as ironclad as it was unintelligible. She struggled heroically for a few more minutes, gradually removing the bobby pins from her mouth to secure Donna’s curls. “I don’t know who’s the bigger shock when they let their hair down, you or Undyne.”

Donna shrugged.

“Okay, give me a shake.” Donna shook her head. The half-up style Brenda had given her stayed in place. “Perfect. No… wait.” Brenda went to Donna’s closet and sorted through it until she found what she was looking for. “Aha!” she uncovered a white evening shawl with painted roses. The material was light enough for summer wear, heavy enough to reassure a skeleton who worried about delicate human skin. “Use this.”

Donna obeyed, draping the shawl around herself and giving a little spin. She didn’t look convinced. “Isn’t this a little too… fancy?”

Brenda covered her mouth and suppressed a happy little squeak. “No! You’re so pretty!”

Donna’s smile was longsuffering, though flattered. “Thanks, but this is a little much even for Muffets’ Parlor.”

“I have no idea what that is.” Brenda admitted and before Donna could explain Brenda added, “I just know that’s not where you’re going.”

Donna narrowed her eyes. Even with her updo and makeup, principal Donna lurked just beneath the surface. “What?”

The door buzzed. “I’ll get it! Throw some lipstick in your clutch or whatever!” Brenda darted from the room. She opened the front door to reveal Papyrus Skeleton in a formal suit; black and white with subdued red accents in the vest and bow-tie. He had one arm not at all suspiciously held behind his back and the scent of roses wafted in from the hall.

Sans stood next to his brother, sporting a fancy new ketchup stain on his usual jacket. “Heya.”

“Come on in, she’s just about ready.”

Papyrus expressed his concerns. “Human friend, why are you and my brother conspiring? Sans has refused to tell me where he intends the taxi to take us.”

“You gave up a date night with Donna because of me, (not to mention saving my life from a bomb.) I owe you. And Sans is apparently a natural sneak who loves his brother.” Brenda explained. Sans shrugged. “Hold on, I’ll drag Donna out before she decides to change.”

Sure enough, Donna was going through her closet trying to find something more ‘appropriate’.

“Nope! No.” Brenda grabbed Donna’s clutch off the vanity and shoved it at her, then started pushing Donna out of her own bedroom. “You two are going to have a nice night together without freeloading roommates, relation or otherwise!” Brenda insisted.

“But… are you sure y-“

“I’m sure!” Brenda stopped shoving Donna just before she passed the partition separating the kitchen and bedrooms from the living room. “Go, he’s waiting.” She hissed.

Donna muttered something about ‘uppity employees’ but finished walking into the living room under her own power.

The moment Donna and Papyrus laid eyes on each other was simply classic. They paused, admiring, then hurried forward as if to make the pause unnoticed and exchanged pleasantries, white roses, a kiss on the cheekbone, and giggles. Brenda took the flowers from Donna to put them in water, but otherwise the rest of the world had ceased to exist save for pastels, petals raining from the sky, birds singing, strings playing sweetly, and all those romantic trifles that the chronically single are somewhat allergic to. Papyrus offered Donna his arm, she accepted and they left the apartment together without looking back.

Brenda closed and locked the door behind them, then shot a look at Sans. “You sure they’ll be okay?” She asked, not for the first time since they’d begun this scheme.

Sans held his hands up. “Some old pals of mine work security for the place and see Paps like one of their own. They’ll be as safe as if they stayed home.”

“Hope so.” Brenda muttered.

“All you can do.” Sans shrugged. “Now, you order pizza and I’ll show you where she hides her stand-up DVD’s.”

~*~*~

Brenda waved the cardboard sign over her head, watching as people streamed past her. A lot of the passengers disembarking were clearly from India, which assured Brenda they’d gotten the right flight. She eagerly searched the crowd. “Do you see her?”

“Not yet.” Celeste said. She held a smaller sign at about chest level, just in case. They peered and stood on toes until…

“Ohmygosh, you guys did _not!_ ”

Brenda boasted her best shit-eating-grin. She’d made the sign last night and it was 110% better because of Sans’ input. Huge, glittering red lips, a yellow crown perched on the corner and in swirling purple letters; sex. 4 Gossip Queen.

Celeste’s more modest sign read ‘Abby’ in black marker on white cardstock.

“Hail! The Gossip Queen approaches!” Jason called.

“You _guys_!” Abby stomped her foot. “I don’t know if I should hug you or kill you!”

“I like warm hugs!” Celeste said, throwing open her arms and hurrying forward. The hugs were passed around, excessively. Celeste grabbed Abby’s carry-on and Jason and Brenda each took custody of a suitcase. “Tell us everything!” Celeste insisted as she gave the signs to Abby.

“Ohmygosh! There’s too, too much! It’ll take forever and I don’t want to rush! You first! What happened while I was gone?”

Celeste rolled her eyes. “Nothing, my life is nothing. I need to travel. Brenda’s the one who had the adventures.”

“You’re throwing me under the bus.” Brenda complained.

“Your cast threw you under the bus!” Abby retorted. “What the heck happened to you?”

Brenda groaned and tried to glaze over somebody attempting to kill her. Skimming the deets on that in front of a Gossip Queen who’d been out of the loop for two weeks didn’t go over well. She was finally beginning to shake Abby off that trail of inquiry when they caught a cab together and Jason felt now was the best time to apologize for his apartment being fumigated. “Otherwise, I’d have been happy for you to stay at my place after” he looked pointedly at Abby when he said, “the apartment was burgled and vandalized!”

“Tattle tale!” Brenda snapped.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” Abby demanded.

Brenda groaned and tried to bury her face in her hands, but that was difficult with only one good hand. “It’s nothing! Some idiot broke into my place and smashed everything. I’m staying with Donna until it’s cleared up. _Now_ can we talk about India? Who was that cute guy you were dancing with in the pictures?”

“Whoa, you’re staying with Donna?”

 “India! Tell us about India!” Brenda tried, unsuccessfully, to get the attention off herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter, everyone.


	12. Dust in the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now for a sexy shower scene... or not. Definitely not sexy.

“Mr. Smith, that doesn’t sound like company business on company time.” Papyrus wasn’t intentionally loud and didn’t intend to embarrass anyone, but the section was so quiet and his voice just naturally carried.

“S-sorry Mr. Papyrus.” Chris apologized, sounding like a thoroughly chastised grade school student.

“No!” Pat piped up. “I do want to! Friday at seven… is that okay?”

“Y-yes!” Chris said.

The section broke into applause with a few hoots and catcalls.

Papyrus crossed his arms and narrowed his eye sockets impatiently but permitted the excitement to go on for a minute before he broke it off. “Enough. Personal relationship development _off_ company time. Everyone, return to your duties.” The volume soon died down to normal levels. A few minutes later Donna returned to her desk carrying an envelope that looked suspiciously like the office pool on Chris and Pat. Work resumed its usual pace for a Wednesday -slow and monotonous. The short drama had been a welcome relief.

Mail came around. Brenda accepted hers and sorted through the pile. Three letters went unopened into the file for Doge. One of the large envelopes was from records. It was stuffed, though Brenda couldn’t remember what she’d requested from them. She undid the string and had to fiddle a little to get a grip on the stack of papers with her good hand before sliding them out of the envelope.

As the papers came free, so did a shower of white powder onto her lap and the floor, light bits of powder even puffed onto her blouse. Brenda was just confused at first, then she grew worried.

 “Don-” She stopped, her hands started shaking as she pictured Donna running to see what was wrong… she knew Donna would come running. And then Abby would step over to see if she was okay. Fear began crawling through her, chilling her. What to do? What had they been told? There’d been guidelines in one of those tower memos, the ones Brenda barely skimmed.

She looked helplessly at the papers in her hand. Mostly they looked like just blank paper somebody had stuffed the envelope with, but on top of the stack was a printed sheet. “MONSTER FUCKING WHORE” above a streaky image of her and Papyrus outside the elevator to Grillby’s. The camera angle made Papyrus helping with her sling far more suggestive than the actual event.

Brenda lowered the papers so they would be quiet when she dropped them, making sure the printed page landed face-down. She was still shaking as she reached for her phone. It was difficult to open the messenger app and text Donna.

‘ _Keep Abby out of my cubicle. Call security. Powder in mail.’_

She heard Donna’s phone ping. A heartbeat later she heard the phone hit Donna’s desk. Donna hurried to Brenda’s cubicle as predicted, but she stayed outside the cubicle while looking inside, clearly hoping this was a tasteless prank, but she could see the powder for herself.

Brenda waved her off in the direction of Abby’s cubicle. Donna nodded, then took a shaky breath and straightened her back. “Abby, I need you to go to the conference room in section seven. Secure it for immediate use.”

“Isn’t that downstairs?”

“Yes. And I said; ‘for _immediate_ use’.” Return of the Principal Donna voice.

“Okay.”

Brenda heard Abby gathering her things and shutting down her desk. Donna managed to maintain her usual expression as Abby left, though her skin had gone very pale. Once Abby was gone, Donna told Brenda, “Sit tight, don’t move.” Brenda nodded, keeping her hands up. She listened as Brenda returned to her desk and dialed the phone. “Yes, this is Donna Ricci of section four, we have a silver, six, evac… yes, I’m very sure. I’ll be sending everyone to conference room seven. Is that acceptable? Thank you.”

“Ms. Ricci, what is the matter?” Donna had apparently signaled Papyrus out of his office.

“I’m about to evacuate everyone to conference room seven, silver six.”

Just as with Papyrus scolding Chris, Donna’s subdued tone and low volume didn’t stop her voice from carrying through the section. Brenda heard a couple people asking, “What’s silver six?”

“Not good. Evacuation’s never good.”

Papyrus said, “Carry on Ms. Ricci. I shall spread the word and meet you down there.”

Donna raised her voice. “Okay everyone, most of you already heard but we’re evacuating to conference room seven! Do so now, leave anything non-essential. Take the stairs, do not take the elevator. Let’s go!”

Brenda’s coworkers shuffled around. Gathering their things, turning off computers, locking drawers. Soon their voices started to move away, whispering to each other and wondering what was the matter while Brenda sat in her chair and stared at the white powder in her lap.

“Orderly fashion, but no dawdling. Let’s go.” Donna shepherded her charges. Her voice was moving away. Hearing her leave was a relief to Brenda. Donna and Abby were safe. But the relief was followed by more fear; Brenda was alone.

Brenda looked around. She needed a distraction. It would do no good just to sit here terrified of what was probably just flour in her lap. That’s it, just flour. A horrible prank with flour.

The paper referred to monsters. Brenda remembered what Polf the rabbit had said about when monsters died. What if…

NO! That was stupid! Nobody was that sick! It was flour! Just flour. Maybe baking soda or powder. If Brenda cooked, she’d know already! Easy!

It was so quiet in the section now. The shaking in Brenda’s hands grew worse, spreading to the rest of her.

Flour. Just flour.

It was too quiet. The section was never empty when Brenda was here. The quiet pressed on her as she tried not to picture particles of the powder entering her lungs. She refused to look down at the papers again.

A prank. It had to be a prank.

People had died like this before.

What if somebody already had?

There were too many close calls, when would her luck run out?

Now?

No.

Flour. Just flour.

Brenda swallowed hard. Emotions writhed like the kraken beneath her skin. Fear so deep it churned up nausea. Her vision blurred and it was almost a welcome relief to focus on not crying.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t puke. Don’t cry…

“Her cubicle is on the far side, near the section supervisor’s desk.” Brenda’s breath caught when she recognized Black’s voice. There wasn’t much he could do if this stuff was real, but knowing Black was there made her feel just a little better. He’d do what he could, one hundred and twenty percent, for real.

“Ms. Laudstrum?”

A human security guard came to Donna’s cubicle. She wore a filtered face mask and gloves. “Ms. Laudstrum, my name is Meliza Puente. I need you to stand up very carefully, nice and easy.” Brenda did as she was told, powder slid off her lap and puffed up around her. Those mental images of tiny, deadly microbes entering her lungs wrestled with her fears that they might just be tiny, _dead_ particles. “Okay, with those same slow movements, I need you to remove all your outer clothing. Can you remove your shirt without pulling it over your head?” Brenda nodded. “Do that.” Brenda undressed in her cubicle, leaving her blouse, slacks, and shoes. The guard gave her a stiff paper robe. Brenda pulled it on and followed the guard out of her section. The worn utility carpeting felt cool but rough and foreign on her bare feet. They passed section three, which had also been evacuated. Although Donna had ordered everyone else to take the stairs, the guard took Brenda to the service elevator. She keyed her mic and said, “We’re headed down, is the way clear?”

“ _I have cleared the way_.” Black replied.

The guard gestured to Brenda, “Okay, get in.” Brenda did as she was told.

The elevator took them to one of the floors where the tower maintenance staff must work. It was warm and humid with lots of machines and pipes. A couple human janitors waited for them with full face masks on and buckets ready. When Brenda stepped off the elevator, they stepped on and immediately began scrubbing.

Now the floor was bare concrete. It was warm, pitted in some places, but worn smooth from frequent cleaning. The guard led Brenda to a wall of showers that were curtained off. Ridges and discoloration showed the old plastic curtains were usually open, but now they were all closed and steam emerged from two of the stalls. Somebody had already started the water. “Okay, go ahead and take a nice, long shower.” Puente told Brenda. “Stay in there at least twenty minutes and keep lathering and rinsing as much as you like, this floor gets priority on hot water.” Her voice lifted as she tried for levity, but it still fell flat from strain. “I’ll call you after twenty minutes. We’ll have some clothes for you by then… real clothes, not paper.”

“Um…” it was the closest she’d come to speaking, so Brenda caught the guard’s attention as she held up her cast.

The guard grimaced. “Ooh, yeah. Is there any open skin under there? Cuts?”

“No. It, no.”

“Then be sure to rinse that, too.”

Brenda nodded and did as she was told. The guard turned to give her privacy while Brenda dropped the paper robe and her undergarments, then stepped into one of the running showers. The water was hot, as promised. The soap was generic and harsh, but Brenda followed the guard’s advice to lather and rinse. After the first rinse, she heard the shower curtain for the stall beside hers moving. “It’s just me!” The female guard called, obviously no longer wearing her mask. “Wow… this soap is crap.” Brenda managed a smile at that. Again she lathered and rinsed, being sure to get her hair, then let her arm drop so the water could slide over and through her cast. The skin on her wrist tingled at the first sensation other than cotton padding in two weeks.

After a while the guard called again. “Okay, that’s twenty minutes but feel free to take your time.”

Brenda only nodded. She pressed her good hand against the wall and let the water rinse over her a few minutes longer, silently begging the hot water relax as much of the tension and fear away as possible.

The gnarly thing that had appeared in her gut after the bomb was back again. It refused to calm despite the hot water but it seemed a little soothed when she put her face in the spray and imagined all that powder rinsing away.

When she’d had enough, Brenda was given towels, then a sweatshirt, shorts, and flipflops from one of the tower’s shops. Minimally dressed, Brenda stepped out of the shower. The floor she’d walked over had been freshly mopped and the air smelled of bleach. Janitors in this tower didn’t mess around.

The guard, wearing the same giftshop ensemble, waited for Brenda with another janitor. Brenda’s dripping wet cast was wrapped in plastic and she was led back through the utility floor to the service elevator.

Black was waiting near the elevator with a paramedic and a gurney. The churning thing in Brenda’s stomach was further soothed when she saw him, but still writhed enough to remind her it was there. At the direction of both the medic and Black, Brenda climbed onto the gurney and allowed the medic to start buckling her in and cover her with a blanket. The guard skeleton announced, “Valued employee! You will be taken to the human hospital and your health monitored! This is a superfluous measure until police forensics have proven what an insufferably childish prank this was!” Brenda thought Black’s speech could be translated to intend reassurance, but she wasn’t sure. He gestured to the guard that had guided and showered with Brenda. “Guardswoman Puente will accompany you. I trust her to defend you as I would.”

Puente stood at attention, looking closer to a soldier than a security guard, “Yes sir.” She nodded confidently to Brenda. “He told me about the idiot doc. I got your back.”

“Okay… thank you.”

Puente smiled, but Black huffed. “Gratitude is unnecessary.” He insisted as the medic wheeled Brenda into the elevator, Puente following. “It is the least you can expect of guards trained and supervised by myself! You will be perfectly safe until such time as this nonsense is dealt with to completion.” Black announced before the doors closed. He stood proudly, fists on his pelvis and bright, pale blue eyes confident.

Brenda tried to take some of that confidence with her down the elevator shaft.


	13. Shaky Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get some test results and Brenda rides her emotions like a playground swing.

Puente moved her checker piece, hopping over two of Brenda’s and collecting them. “So, that tall skeleton is your boss?”

“Yep. A little over three months now.” Brenda’s fingers trembled as she moved her own piece, but neither of them mentioned it.

The guard nodded. “Chief gets all prickly when somebody mentions him.” She jumped and collected the piece Brenda had just moved.

Both women had been admitted into the hospital, made to shower again, changed into scrubs, had blood drawn and swabs taken from their nostrils and throats. Additionally, Brenda’s cast had been removed and her arm was scrubbed and x-rayed before the two women were left in an isolated room for quarantine. The television remote was busted, so they resorted to checkers. Puente was the reigning champion and showed no sign of going easy on Brenda.

“My boss starts acting like a tall jerk when your boss patrols our section. How do you think they know each other?”

“I heard they were both high ranking Royal Guards. Bet they were rivals.”

Brenda jumped one of Puente’s pieces. “King me.” Puente made grand ceremony of bestowing a second checker upon Brenda’s piece. She then captured Brenda’s remaining three pieces, leaving the king with no one to rule. Brenda scowled at her inevitable defeat but moved her new king to proceed anyway. “I’m telling Black you didn’t defend me from the vampires.”

“Don’t you dare. He will take you seriously!” Puente bristled. Brenda managed a mischievous grin, though it was a little tight.

A knock at the door drew their attention away from the game as their doctor and a nurse strode inside. The nurse immediately began collecting vitals from Puente. It was the same doctor who had supervised Brenda’s tests after the bombing.

“So… am I dead yet?” Brenda asked lightly. “Diabetes or cancer?” She crossed her arms over her stomach, hiding her unsteady hands.

Dr. Washington shook his head, smiling. “I’m afraid the gallows humor is unnecessary. We’ve been informed by the forensics lab that the powder you were exposed to is entirely benign. No pathogens or toxins of any kind.”

Despite her confidence, Puente released a breath. She smiled at Brenda, but Brenda didn’t relax. “Did they say what it was?”

The doctor’s eyebrows lifted and he checked his papers. “No, I don’t believe they’ve identified it quite yet, but as I said; it’s not dangerous. You’re perfectly safe.”

Brenda still couldn’t relax. “Okay. It was probably just… flour or something.”

“I’m sure.” Dr. Washington said confidently. “So, now you’re out of quarantine. We’ll start Ms. Puente’s discharge immediately -thank you for not arguing with the hospital’s policies on this matter.” Puente waved him off, being admitted with Brenda meant she did her job and had personal assurance of her own care if worse came to worst. “And Ms. Laudstrum, your x-rays show remarkable healing. We can start discharge as soon as Physical Therapy gets here with a brace for your wrist.”

Brenda perked up. “A brace? But it’s only been two weeks.”

“Yes, but your break has almost entirely healed. At this point, the brace is just a precaution. I don’t think the magical healing you were given was as extensive this time, though we could still call nurse Barb to confirm if you prefer.”

“Magical…” Brenda trailed off as she realized what must have happened. Sneaky, sneaky skeletons.

The nurse called Puente’s attention to some disclaimers and such that needed to be initialed. While her temporary roommate and guard was distracted, Brenda spun the checkers board around. The nurse left to retrieve their clothes -the souvenir clothing from the tower- and Brenda made a show of considering the board before illegally moving one of Puente’s pieces to capture her own king. “I win.”

Puente snorted a laugh.

They had both dressed and been discharged before Black and Donna arrived. Brenda didn’t wait before grabbing Donna into a tight hug, then pulling back and demanding, “Have you heard from Papyrus?”

“He’s tending matters at the office, making sure-”

“The other one.” Brenda interrupted urgently.

Donna blinked and had to redirect her train of thought. “Oh, yes. I texted him that we’re both okay.”

“But did he text back?”

Donna nodded. “He called, we spoke. Why?”

In reply, Brenda hugged Donna again, shaking and releasing a breath as she finally started to relax. Donna looked quizzically to Puente who shrugged and looked to Black. Black wasn’t a strong advocate of silent communication. “Human employee, why has this inane prank caused you concern for a monster who does is not employed at Lee Tower?”

Brenda tried to keep her voice steady as she answered. “There was a picture of Papyrus Skeleton and me. I thought they were threatening him, too.” She admitted. “I mean… I heard that when… when monsters die they turn…”

Donna tightened her grip on Brenda as Black’s scowl darkened. “The powder was not, nor did it contain monster dust.” He snapped. “Sniveling cowards who send powder as threats couldn’t dust a moldsmal, much less Papyrus the Skeleton.” Black’s tone shifted, the bombast easing and but not the confidence or sincerity. “The powder in your cubicle contained no monster dust.” He repeated.

Brenda took a slow breath and released it, relaxing as she accepted his words, allowing them to act as a balm to her nerves. That _thing_ in her gut settled, some. “Good… thank you.”

Footsteps could be heard running down the hall toward Brenda and Puente’s room. A familiar voice calling, “Excuse me! Pardon me! Coming through…”

“Here she comes.” Donna noted in amusement, pulling away from Brenda and stepping aside with a gesture for Black and Puente to clear the way.

As expected, Abby sprinted into the room and catapulted herself at Brenda without slowing down. “Don’t scare me like that!” Abby scolded breathlessly.

“’m sorry.” Brenda coughed, mostly focused on not being knocked down. Beside their reunion, Black made a signal to Puente, who nodded. The two guards took their leave in silence.

Abby was angry, though she didn’t let Brenda go. “Why didn’t you say anything? You could have asked for my help! You know you can count on me!”

Brenda sighed and held her friend. “I know I can count on you. That was the problem.” She looked over Abby’s shoulder, making eye contact with Donna to include her. “You’re my friend, one of the few people I can really depend on. If I’d said anything, I knew you would come running, and then you would have been stuck in here with me.”

“But you wouldn’t have been alone!” Abby insisted, her voice wavering. Donna nodded her agreement more firmly.

“I wasn’t alone. Black sent Puente with me. And what if it had been the real thing? We’d all be stuck in here and it would be my fault.”

Aghast, Abby pulled back as Donna took a step forward, equally upset. “That wasn’t your fault!” “None of this is your fault!” The two women blinked at each other, then both held up a hand as if to say, ‘see? She agrees.’

Brenda managed a laugh and started walking, hooking arms with each of her two friends as she went. “Come on. It’s been a long day and we should all go home.”

“Hold it.” Donna brought their friendship train to a halt, “This way.” She led them down a different set of hallways. When Brenda looked to her in confusion, Donna explained, “The press is back.” Brenda grimaced and allowed Donna to guide them to a back entrance where several nurses, doctors, and other hospital staff were coming and going.

There were Black and Puente, waiting for them with a taxi. Again, Black shoved a baseball cap at Donna. Puente had hers in place with her hair tucked up underneath. Brenda wasn’t sure if Puente was meant as a double or also keeping her appearance mildly disguised because they’d been in the hospital together. What she cared about right now was the reporter with his cameraman. “Brenda Laudstrum? Ms. Laudstrum, if we could get a quick-” Brenda jumped into the taxi, followed closely by Puente, Abby, Donna, and finally Black.

As the taxi driver started working her way out of the complicated hospital parking lot, Abby expressed her confusion. “Why are we running from the news people?” She asked.

“They’re the ones that started all this.” Brenda answered tersely. “I got pushed off a bridge because they lied about my statement after the bombing.”

“No. If they lied, they could be held liable to libel or slander.” Donna corrected soothingly.

“They said it was evidence in the bombing motive!” Brenda reminded her boss, biting the words. She was being snappish, but she was also coming down from the fear adrenaline she’d been barely controlling for the last several hours. “How is ‘Papyrus saved my life’ evidence for why someone nearly _killed_ me?” Her voice cracked hard and Brenda took a breath. She grimaced and tried to figure out if she was still upset over the bombing or if it was the fact that someone tried again or the scare from today that had her emotionally unstable. She decided to screw it, she was allowed to be emotional.

Abby and Donna apparently agreed. They dropped the subject and Abby hugged Brenda.

They had the taxi take them to Donna’s apartment first. There didn’t appear to be any reporters there, so Abby got out of the cab and was sure to give Brenda extra hugs. She even tried a hug with Donna on for size before hugging Brenda again and climbing back into the cab. Brenda thanked Black and especially Puente before the taxi carried the three of them away.

Donna put a hand on Brenda’s shoulder, assuring her friend of her continued presence as they walked through the lobby. Unlike Brenda’s, this one was clean and had a doorman ready to help instead of an empty receptionist’s desk. It was a conscious effort not to wonder just how much Donna made, their jobs weren’t _that_ different.

“How about I make us some stir fry?” Donna suggested.

Brenda shook her head. “We should order in.”

“I have plenty of ingredients, home-made is best.” Donna argued gently.

Again, Brenda insisted, “No, we should definitely order in.”

“Why are you so set on delivery tonight?” Donna asked.

“You’ve been going since Undyne picked you up this morning at five-”

“I did ask her to stop yelling over the intercom.”

“Stop apologizing, that’s not the point. You put in a full day’s worth even without all this evacuation stuff, you need a break.” In a rueful tone, Brenda added. “And I might kill us both if I cook.”

“Take-out isn’t healthy.”

“Let she who doesn’t drink artificial coffee crystals be the first to throw stones!”

“Will you just let that go already?”

“Never.”

They reached the elevator. Donna inserted her keycard before pressing the call button. “I don’t want anything greasy.”

“We could get salads, or sushi, or anything really. The joys of not living in the backwoods.” Brenda watched Donna carefully.

Her boss was caving. “I’ve been eating an awful lot of carbs lately…”

“So, sushi is out. There’s this great Keto place I know of with-”

“NYEH!”

“GYAH!” Brenda yelped as she and Donna were unexpectedly swept into a group hug by a very strong yet very thin and boney set of arms belonging to someone behind them.

“Pappy!” Donna sounded equal parts surprised and delighted.

Papyrus Skeleton set the two of them on the ground and spun them each in turn, looking them over carefully to make sure they were both alive and well. He then pulled Donna in close for a second hug. “I am so very glad you are safe, the both of you.”

“We’re both fine.” Brenda assured him as Donna soaked up the hugs.

“Guardsman Black is very competent and reported as much.” Papyrus agreed, before admitting, “However, I do feel better seeing for myself.”

“Hmmm.” Donna hummed her understanding and contentment before reluctantly pulling out of the hug. “I thought you had to work late tonight? You didn’t leave anything important on our account, did you?”

“Nyeh-heh! On the contrary! I am preparing a very important and official report for the Dreemurs with the usual quality and factual evidence expected of the Great Ambassador Papyrus! They insist on a personal report of your wellbeing.” Papyrus touched his forehead to Donna’s, looking deep into her eyes.

Donna hummed again. “It’s so sweet of the Dreemurs to send the _royal ambassador_ to check on us.” She crooned. Papyrus replied with more sweet nothings.

Brenda started punching the elevator call button.


End file.
